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Harlem's first Applebee's opened today but Uptown Flavor was lucky enough to attend an opening party this weekend. What caught my attention was mention of the restaurant serving items from local businesses such as Make My Cake just as Downtown Brooklyn Applebee's provides slices of Cake Man Raven red velvet cakes, and that "They will also feature a few Harlem specific dishes that are exclusive to the Harlem restaurant."

I'm curious what these hyper-regional dishes will be. All I can imagine is chicken and waffles, which has become so pervasive that the version served at Buttermilk Channel down the street from my apartment was on the cover of last week's Time Out New York. How do you interpret "Harlem specific?"

There Goes the Beef

Wendy's japan Keeping balance in the universe (or at least the Asian continent), Japan loses Wendy's after a 29 years in the country while the chain returns to Singapore after a ten-year absence.

AP Photo/Koji Sasahara

Casa Mario Lombardo

1/2 Oaxaca was freeing. I could indulge in Hawaiian pizza, the love that dare not speak its name in New York City, with no shame. Ham and pineapple is revered, ok, enjoyed by Mexicans in a way that is not allowed in the Northeast but likely still holds traction in many parts of the United States (growing up a half pepperoni/half Hawaiian was a standard family-pleasing order).

Frozen hawaiana pizza

My theory is only bolstered by evidence found in the freezer case at Soriana.

Domino's hawaiian pizza in oaxaca

Domino’s are not foreign to Oaxacans. In fact, I was kind of excited to see their delivery ad showcasing Hawaiian pizza propped up on the television in the Hotel Aitana, my second of three lodgings. This one was geared toward middle class Mexican travelers, a little pricey and no concessions made to English-speakers.

Hotel aitana bathroom swan

When you get the swan towel treatment you know you’ve made it.

Casa maria lombardo oven

That didn’t mean I was going to order Domino’s, though. Casa Maria Lombardo, an Italian restaurant featuring dishes cooked in the wood-burning oven seemed like a more serious option. When I stopped in after Spanish class everyone was eating pizza and I was initially surprised at the lack of tourists, considering every relatively nice place–wines served, quirky décor like cheese grater lamps, stand-up metal purse hooks–I’d been to up until this point were inhabited by Americans.

Casa maria lombardo hawaiian pizza

So, Hawaiian it was. Size chico. The sweet-salty combination neither Italian, Mexican nor Hawaiian was transformed even further by the two condiments presented to all diners: salsa and ketchup. Clearly, there is an audience for the ketchup though the only people I’ve ever known to add the sweet tomato sauce to their pizza were Filipinos. Salsa made perfect sense, however, I always drizzle a little Sriracha on my slices. This was just a chunkier, fresher rendition. And the style at Casa Maria Lombardo was very sparing with the tomato sauce foundation. A little extra spicy tomato-based moisture didn’t hurt.

Casa maria lombardo pizza bottom

The crust had even scattered leopard spots charred on the bottom  but this is not the thin bubbly Neapolitan style appreciated in NYC. This was fork and knife pizza with enough structure to allow easy cutting. I don’t only enjoy pineapple on my pizza, I also refuse to fold, always going for the knife and fork even when plastic. Yes, I liked Mexican pizza.

Unflattering out of focus photo taken by a stranger Solo dining, I was generally invisible to all but bauble hawkers (who oddly never made an appearance in this restaurant) so I was surprised that a gentleman, one of two businessmen drinking lots of wine by the glass (they really should’ve just ordered a bottle) at the table next to me offered to take my photo. I think he felt bad seeing me by myself snapping shots of my food. Then I felt weird and explained that I actually like taking photos of my food and didn’t need a photo of myself then relented at the last minute because it might be the only one I’d have from this vacation. Unfortunately, it’s a blurry unflattering photo. He didn’t know how to use the camera and the flash was off and I have horrible blobby posture and was sunburnt. Even so, if I am to only have one photographic reminder of my Mexican vacation it should really involve Hawaiian pizza.

Casa Maria Lombardo * Abasolo 314, Oaxaca, Mexico

The Farm on Adderley

Three-and-half-hours is a long time to wait for a table by anyone's standards. More so in a non-prime neighborhood like Ditmas Park even if said neighborhood got The New York Times' Living In treatment, "Moved for the Space; Stayed for the Food" (sounds good on paper) the very same Saturday you decided to poke your head in Purple Yam, their first Saturday in business.

Who knew there was such a clamor for upscale Filipino fare along the Q line? Tocino sliders on purple pan de sal would have to wait.

Still wanting to see what Ditmas Park was morphing into (I'd never stopped in the stand-alone-homes-with-porches enclave in the 11.5 years I've lived here) we settled for The Farm on Adderley, the type of rustic, dangling filament bulb restaurant that has overrun the northwest corner of Brooklyn but is still novel in the bulk of the borough. With their refined casualness, these bellwethers of a neighborhood's status are exactly the places I would avoid in my 20s for being too adult and prohibitively priced yet are now embraced by 21st century 20-somethings. Maybe that's a recent shift in taste, maybe that's just New York City. Do Middle American 24-year-olds dine on $20 organic roast chicken and drink bottles of biodynamic wine?

Farm on adderley apple tempura

Apple tempura is certainly not something clogging the menus like homemade pickles, sausages and pork belly, though. A true novelty, the crunchy, lightly coated slices of mellow red apple sat in a porky broth dashing any notions that a fruit focused starter would be either vegetarian friendly or healthy. Autumnal, to be sure.

Farm on adderley artic char

Meaty Artic char with lentils and beets clung closer to tradition. Pickled garlic was a nice touch.

Already having Buttermilk Channel and Chestnut walking distance from my apartment, it's not likely I will return to Ditmas Park for this satisfying yet not hard to find American style of cooking anytime soon. I am curious about fancified lechon, however, so Purple Yam it will be when the wait times simmer back down to normal.

The Farm on Adderley * 1108 Cortelyou Rd., Brooklyn, NY

The Future is Now

Flapsticks Just as I probably do every December and forget about it by the following December, I was going to say enough with the year-end foodie round-ups because I am old and perpetually crotchety.

Then I remembered that I’m guilty of contributing to the onslaught. I just covered fried chicken, banh mi, “rock star” butchers, pizza and a few other 2009 dining trends for Metromix.

I’m not much for predictions either. I wanted kalamansi to blow up for 2003, and well, I’m still waiting. I do think Peruvian will be the next big Latin cuisine, that Manhattan- Mex (Cascabel, La Lucha, Ofrenda) will continue to expand, goat meat will take off after we get through lamb and that mezcal (ok, I’m just on a personal kick) will have a heyday. Personally, I wish 2010 could be the year of the crab rangoon.

More on the near future:

Restaurants & Institutions favors pot roast, beer and eggs.

Chowhounders say food trucks for the non-L.A./NYC parts of the country, Korean as the new Thai and lots of stuff that’s already happening like home canning and American charcuterie.

I had to double check Epicurious’ pub date because their Top 10 for 2010 reads like trends for 2009. Ok, maybe just the fried chicken, babely butchers and lamb.

The National Restaurant Association’s “Chef Survey: What’s Hot in 2010” predicts the top trends will be locally grown produce (88%), locally sourced meats (84%) and seafood and sustainability (80%). True but boring. I like #77 traditional ethnic breakfast items (50%) and #157 mole (35%). Ack, #154 fiddlehead ferns, one of the world’s creepiest foods regardless of taste, came in one notch above mole.

Food & Wine foresees better frozen food, butter and artisanal breakfasts.

In “A Look into The Future of Eating” The NPD Group says Generation Z will see the largest increase in heat and eat breakfasts among all age groups over the next decade. Toddlers and their Jimmy Dean Flapsticks.

Oaxacan Black Mole

Black mole with chicken

Mexican black mole. It really does have as many ingredients as you’ve heard—30 give or take in the version below—and yes, there can be too much of a good thing. Moles like this are reserved for celebrations because of the time involved in making them. But I think it’s also because this is some intensely flavored, seriously heavy food. I felt kind of guilty for getting completely mole’d out during my week in Oaxaca, but apparently that’s not unusual. The second cooking class I had steered clear of mole recipes because the instructor, herself, had burnt out on moles during a festival the week prior.

The first of two cooking classes I took in Oaxaca was from Pilar Cabrera at La Casa de los Sabores. I had no idea what to expect only having taken lessons abroad some time ago in Bangkok and a class in Singapore last year this very same week. Neither of these classes in Asia included market visits, though, because I can never get up early enough on vacation. It’s a miracle to make it out of the hotel before 11am

That’s one way that I benefited from traveling by myself. By having no late night temptations in Oaxaca, I went to bed before midnight and was able to report at 9am (an hour earlier than I normally show up at work) for shopping duties and chitchat with my fellow out-of-towners.

I’d already been in Oaxaca for three-and-a-half days floundering around over the weekend before taking this class. Consequently, I had already been to the Mercado de la Merced, a small market for locals, on the recommendation of my Spanish teacher. It was definitely helpful to go with a regular who knows the vendors and can explain unusual ingredients and techniques.

Taking photos of people in general, and especially in markets, isn’t my thing. Though of course photos of people tend to be my favorite subject to look at when shot by professionals. Both Dave Hagerman, the image half of Eating Asia and Austin Bush do this well, but I am not them. I just find it creepy to snap photos (especially with a flash) of people going about their business. It makes me feel more other than I already do. But I did loosen up a bit with these groups since the vendors were accustomed to it and we were instructed to ask not just start shooting. My sparing Mercado de la Merced snapshots are here.

Oaxacan chiles

I brought back a shitload of chiles. Well, not the shitload I originally was handed and had to give back because my small suitcase was already pushed to its limits. Left to right, chilhuacles, the deep brown round chiles seemed important since I was told they were native to Oaxaca. I also wasn’t convinced that I would find stubby mulatos in NYC. Pasilla de Oaxaca are smoked and also native to the region, but we used Mexican pasilla, the long skinny chile pictured. Having no sense of metric weight, I asked for medio-kilo of the chilhuacles and the small pillowcase sized plastic bag was filled to the top. Ah, no, I then went for quarto-kilo which was still a ton so I split it was a woman in class. This bag on the left contains a mere 1/8 kilo.

I chose this Tuesday session especially to learn how to cook black mole (Wednesday was Zapotecan conducted in Spanish and Thursday was tamales). My plan was to master it so I could recreate it for a dinner party the weekend after I got back to NYC. That would be tomorrow. I hope I don’t mess it up.

The full menu for my class included:
Quesadillas de flor de calabaza
Salsa de tomate y chile de agua
Mole negro con pollo
Arroz a la hierbabuena
Nieve de petals de rosas

More photos from the class are here.

Black mole ingredients
Oaxaca is often cited as having seven moles. But in reality, we were told, there are hundreds. Everyone has a variation and recipes differ by region even within Oaxaca State. Here is the recipe for the black mole we made. It certainly helps to have a group of 12-plus deft kitchen assistants to cut down on the prep time. This nice basket was already awaiting us after we returned from the market.

Black Mole with Chicken

Ingredients

4 chilhuacle chiles
8 mulato chiles
8 pasilla mexicano chiles
4 tablespoons lard
¼ cup almonds
¼ cup raisins
¼ cup pumpkin seeds
¼ cup pecans
¼ cup peanuts with skins
4 slices of egg bread (semisweet) torn in pieces
¼ cup sesame seeds
1/8 teaspoon dried thyme
1/8 teaspoon dried marjoram
1/8 teaspoon oregano
4 avocado leaves
2 cinnamon sticks
1/8 teaspoon anise (a.k.a. fennel seeds)
3 whole cloves
1/8 teaspoon cumin
3 whole black peppercorns
2 plantains
1 tomato, roasted
3 tomatillos, roasted
3 cloves of garlic, roasted
¼ medium onion, roasted
4 cups chicken broth
8 pieces of boiled chicken
3 tablespoons sugar
½ cup Oaxacan chocolate
Salt to taste

Preparation

 Clean the dried chiles with a damp cloth. Open the chiles by making a lengthwise slit down one side of each. Take out the seeds, veins and stems. Reserve the seeds.

Heat 3 tablespoons of the lard in a saucepan, and then fry the chiles. Remove the chiles from the saucepan as soon as they begin to change color and become crispy, and place them in a bowl lined with absorbent paper towel.

In another pan, heat the remaining lard and fry the raisins until they puff up and brown a bit. Remove the raisins and then add the almonds, pecans and peanuts frying for five minutes until they are a dark brown color, remove them from the pan. Then fry the pumpkin seeds, sesame seeds, cinnamon, anise, cloves, cumin and black peppercorns in the same pan, until they obtain a deep brown color. Remove them and then add the dried bread pieces to the remaining hot lard for two minutes, then remove.

Roast the tomatoes, tomatillos, onion and garlic.

Place the spices, tomatoes, tomatillos, onion and garlic and one cup of chicken broth in the blender. Blend until the mixture is smooth. Put into a bowl and set aside.

Place the fried chiles and one-and-a-half cups of chicken broth into the blender. Blend until the mixture is a smooth paste.

Remove the remaining lard from the pan in which the nuts and spices were fried. Pour into a deep pot, heat and then add the blended chiles. Cook for three minutes; then add the spice mixture and cook for three more minutes. Add the sugar and chocolate and stir for five minutes. The sauce is ready when, while stirring, the fat rises to the top of the mixture.

Add the rest of the chicken broth and season with salt. Cook for three more minutes over medium heat. Add the pieces of chicken before serving.

Garnish with fried plantain.

Serves six.

Ack, I just realized this recipe never says when to add in the thyme, oregano, marjoram or avocado leaves. I really want to say that the herbs get added with nuts and that the avocado leaves would be simmered whole in the final stages. But that's just how I would do it.

Grilled onion, tomatoes, tomatillos
Plantains frying, chiles frying too and tomatoes, tomatillos, onion and garlic being grilled.

Toasted herbs, spices, nuts 

Toasted herbs, spices and nuts.

Black mole puree 

Everything pureed with chicken broth minus the chiles.

Black mole chiles added 

The chiles (also pureed with chicken broth) give the black mole its deep color not the chocolate as many believe. Said chocolate and sugar are added at the very end.

Worth the Wait

Shake-shack Nearly nothing perks my ears up more than these two words: food and proposal. So, the Shake Shack marriage proposal mentioned on Immaculate Infatuation complete with white tablecloth and candles was sweet and all, but the most important detail was omitted.

Where was the ring? Hidden at the bottom of a concrete? We all know how well it went for the Mormon kids who stashed a piece of symbolic jewelry in a Wendy’s Frosty.

Applebee All that You Can Be

Applebee's hires Over 6,500 people applied at the Bronx Applebee’s that opened this summer. There were only positions available for approximately 1.8% of the hopefuls. Both sad and fascinating, The New York Times has audio interviews with a few of the lucky ones hired.

My favorite quote is from Latifa Jackson: “I call my son ‘Applebaby,’ because he’s always at Applebee’s. He eats macaroni and cheese, mashed potatoes. He knows what he likes. My managers like him, they bring him apple juice and stuff. They nicknamed him ‘Applebaby,’ so that’s his name.

Many years ago I had a minor obsession with a guy who lived in my building whose last name was Riblet. Just think if he had gone by Applebaby, instead.

La Biznaga

I was a little embarrassed to tell anyone that I ate at La Biznaga twice in one short week in Oaxaca. (Though I was more reticent to admit I was staying at the Holiday Inn Express, an unforeseen event that occurred after not being able to get wireless internet access to work at either the cheap and cheerful B&B or the middle class Mexican hotel I moved to the second night. By the third day I began feeling isolated and crazy since this wasn't intended as a get away from it all vacation. My phone wouldn’t work either even though I saw plenty of tourists using theirs. I packed it in and headed for the Holiday Inn where you could also put toilet paper in the toilets and drink the tap water, incidentally. Only then did I realize a wireless switch had been bumped to off on the front of my laptop, likely the problem all along. As punishment I was never able to receive stronger than a LOW signal at the American chain and webpages took five minutes to load, if they did at all before the network connection died.) To the Americans it implied you weren’t very adventurous and to the Oaxacans it made you look ostentatious.

La biznaga exterior

But it’s not expensive by even non-NYC American standards and I don’t believe it was completely filled with tourists, at least not from the US. I heard plenty of Spanish being spoken by large families with little kids, dates, same-sex and heterosexual, as well as by men with slick silver ponytails, rumpled earth toned suits and white sneakers, though I was told by two separate residents that the restaurant is popular with Chilangos (Mexico City residents). Maybe this was them.

I ended up at La Biznaga my first night and it appealed instantly because I have a terrible phobia of dining alone. I don’t even like to eat lunch by myself at casual worker bee spots so I always end up eating at my desk even though I know it's healthier to get out of the office for an hour. I’ve also never traveled alone before and food-wise (the main reason I travel) it did prove tough because you can’t share and get full too quickly to experiment. I never once got to sample a postre because I just didn’t have the capacity and felt weird and decadent about leaving parts of my appetizer and entrée behind in order to try dessert.

The room is dim, at least at night. It took me a while to realize we were under open skies. Many of the nicer restaurants in Oaxaca are set inside courtyards with a retractable roof. It seems classically Mexican but I never encountered this style once in Mexico City. I wouldn’t be so conspicuous, especially since I was always given a four-seater everywhere I ate and even more opposite of NYC, the tables were spaced with so much distance a person could stand between two, jump around and not touch either with arms outspread. The were enough distractions and ambient noise to deflect any unnecessary attention to my photographing my food (I did draw curious stares elsewhere). You can also smoke, which I only engage in NYC when I’m drinking or partying, which is to say not very often. But on vacation it’s a not-so-guilty pleasure; all health-related restrictions are ignored when I’m out of town. It’s a rare, rare restaurant in the world that lets you smoke indoors so I take advantage when I can. Non-dance club type bars seemed nonexistent and I felt like sitting in a cantina alone would be asking for trouble, despite my advanced age. However, I could see myself at La Biznaga with a glass of wine (or a shot of mezcal) and a cigarette.

The power of no (gracias) became very necessary, not just while fending off troubadours and bookmark, candy, jewelry, towel and painting vendors from ages six to 80 while sitting the tourist cafes surrounding the zocalo, but in the nicer restaurants, as well. In NYC, you really only get the occasional DVD vendor, usually Asian, in casual Latino restaurants around Jackson Heights and Sunset Park. The staff at La Biznaga allowed some of the little candy-and-bracelet-hawking kids sit at the bar and eat chips, which seemed kind. No one gets gruff with beggars and in turn, those asking for pesos aren't all that aggressive.

La biznaga amuse

I think I may have been starving on my first day in Oaxaca because the seemingly nothing special tomato, queso fresco and pesto bruschetta tasted like summer in winter (technically, late November). I think it was the salty cheese, not the tomatoes. The crumbly white stuff enlivens anything.

La biznaga ceviche

Ceviche de pescado, zanahorias y challotes. The appetizers, or entradas as they say, are substantial. If you'd eaten a heavy mole-sauced lunch, a starter would be plenty for your evening meal. I didn't know that, though. The type of fish wasn’t specified, though huachinango, red snapper seemed like the most common fish served in Oaxaca. The flesh was very firm and the flavor very tart and heavy on the lime. The creamy mayonnaisey (Mexicans like mayo almost as much as the Japanese) swirls toned down some of the acid. I'm guessing the carrots referenced in the title are what colored one of the sauces orange because I didn't detect the vegetable anywhere else.

La biznaga puntas con poblanos, cebollas y chorizo

Puntas con poblanos, cebollas y chorizo. Classic Mexican, not so much Oaxacan. A carne asada dish with frijoles and guacamole. I recreated this earlier this week minus the guacamole and chorizo with nice dry-aged flank steak from The Meathook. That was some damn fine meat for a workaday cut and I cooked mine much rarer.

One of my favorite phrases I learned in Spanish class was no vale la pena, it’s not worth it, because so much wasn’t like taking a six-hour bus ride from Mexico City to Oaxaca when the flight was only 40 minutes (never mind my layover was five hours—I’d rather sit in the airport than on a bus). My teacher described a salad served at La Biznaga as expensive but vale la pena.

 La biznaga nopales ensalada

Ensalada de nopales, tomate, queso y aceitunas. Out of curiosity I ordered it on my second visit right after that class. I didn’t expect it to be so hearty; those are slabs of queso beneath each cactus paddle and the olive oil was drizzled with a heavy hand. Dressed salads and salads in general are very un-Mexican I was later told in a cooking class so this was very nuevo. Salty, rich and also refreshing (I hadn’t eaten any vegetables up until this point) from the limey pickled onions composed in the center. I would definitely say it was vale la pena. It cost 59 pesos or $4.64 as of this writing.

La biznaga shrimp mole

Camarones al ajillo y mole de tamarindo. The expensive salad knocked out any appetite I may have originally had so it was hard to focus on the shrimp. The rice was a little undercooked and the mole was way sour from the tamarind. The shrimp did have more sea flavor than you typically find in the US.

Some would call the service leisurely, others might say neglectful. I thought I might never get my check. After meeting a couple in my first cooking class from Seattle who'd befriended friends from San Francisco at their hotel it turned out we'd all (as well, as two sisters from NYC, also in the class) been at La Biznaga the night before, and they remarked how everyone on staff was high. It would explain a lot.

 La Biznaga * Garcia Vigil 512, Oaxaca, Mexico

Charles’ Country Pan Fried Chicken

Charles Gabriel’s fried chicken is one of those fundamentals that every food knowledgeable New Yorker is supposed to be familiar with. For burgers the benchmark has become Shake Shack, though I was late to that game too with my first visit being in September (I’ve still never been to the Madison Square Park location). DiFara is a big duh pizza-wise, but I haven’t been in years because I’m impatient. And by years I’m merely talking early 21st century; no one would believe me if I claimed my fondness began as a Jewish boy growing up in 1960s Midwood.

So now that Charles’ Southern Style Chicken has been reopened as Charles’ Country Pan Fried Chicken and the city has become frenzied over wings and thighs, I really needed to go straight to the source.

A wiser soul would’ve gone during the weekend buffet and made sure to get a fresh batch straight from the skillet. I went on a random weeknight and figured that if the chicken had already been sitting awhile under heat lamps that another 45 minutes to the fancy $18 fried chicken enclave of Carroll Gardens wouldn’t cause much further damage. (I still can’t explain how a 14.3-mile ride from 155th St. to Brooklyn only takes five minutes longer than my daily 4.4-mile commute to Whitehall, the southernmost R/W station in Manhattan. I would take a cheaper, further, express train neighborhood any day and have been trying to convince the person I live with of this for years.)

Charles’ country pan fried chicken take out

What I’m taking a long time to say is that I know my fried chicken wasn’t at its peak. And it was still moist, crispy edged and covetable at room temperature. The skin was sturdy not heavy with a light, flaky powdered quality. I devoured a drumstick walking around (I never eat standing up) getting out plates for the collard greens (made smoky from turkey rather than ham hocks), soupy black eyed peas and leftover Thanksgiving sweet potatoes driven up from Northern Virginia.

Sitting down with a breast and my sides, I was glad that we’d ordered what I initially thought was too much chicken for two. I still have a wing I’m holding onto for today.

Charles’ country pan fried chicken red velvet cake remainder

My only recommendation is to not eat 95% of a slab of red velvet cake in one go. Normally, I share such things. As someone whose sugar intake is limited by necessity not choice, I go overboard when faced with my favorite form of glucose: a hefty, wincingly sweet slice of super-American layer cake frosted and filled to the nines. I didn’t even remember to take a photo. This is all that’s left.

Before going to bed I quickly clicked on the New York Times dining section and there Charles’ Country Pan Fried Chicken was getting the under $25 treatment. I made up to Harlem just in the nick of time. ( I also cracked open the new Saveur this morning only to be faced with a feature on mezcal, a subject I researched in Oaxaca last week, written by the Fort Defiance gentleman. Not that I was looking to publish in Saveur and not that they would let me, but I feel a quiet, nervous attachment to the subject in the same way I get anxious when I read others’ blog posts about chain restaurants, which thankfully isn’t a daily occurrence.)

Charles’ Country Pan Fried Chicken * 2841 Frederick Douglass Blvd., New York, NY