Gourmet Shopping in Harlem, Curry Hill, the Inimitable Whole Foods & The Holy Grail of Senegal, Thiebou Djen

I have a number of aces.  grrrrrrrrrrrrrrls who i would prefer not to live without, the ones to/from i both make & receive that 2AM call, just because some life-changing concept became crystal clear @ that moment, the ones to whom i actually offer readings, when i see she is in distress, (as opposed to remaining incognegro until a reading is demanded) the ones who plan your baby shower, assure you that you are not crazy & the ones who laugh, heartily in your face & assure you that you are nuts.  i will have to lie to protect the guilty here, b/c i believe Whole (Paycheck) Foods security is still on high alert - this is one of my most explosive DOGS.  i would say that she was the type of friend that you don't invite to the party - she's that gangster, but she's actually incredibly social.  this is her dichotomy - 3 languages spoken, world traveled, with the taste & aesthetic of an glam gentlewoman, yet fearlessly rolls through any ghetto, bragging about her intimate knowledge of Queensbridge projects - this is a housing development that is NOT to be fucked with, friends.  she is my ace that will simply ask 'where are you?' when i call with a slight catch in my voice, alerting her to the presence of something not quite right, & then be there @ the speed of light. she is a brilliant researcher, film aesthete, photographer.  she usually shoots when i am doing something food related, & we are currently working on a number of food/media related projects.


as i said, i will lie here to protect her guilty ass, & call her S.

the whole thing had gotten out of control:  sunday, the day i had set aside to actually MAKE & shoot the schlag preparation, had started out normal enough.  S had been kind enough to offer her space (with a FABULOUS skyline view of whatever is across town from her ritzy address, which will remain secret) for the struggle.  she has done this more than once, in fact our shoots, which are reminding me more & more of Ab Fab usually take place @ her various joints, which are strangely, usually great for shooting.  on saturday, we had agreed to start early-ish - noon-like?  on our journey - as you recall, i was in search of something called Sahnesteif, to stabilize our lovely schlag.  upon further research, i found that in the states, this product is referred to as the infinitely more pronounceable Whip It!  i figured, it's one ingredient - how hard could this be?  why did i even think that phrase?  why?

we set off:

first, since i was getting a ride - i have a lot of shame around never having gotten my driver's license, maybe i can conquer that later on this year - i was buying lunch, & i had a vicious craving for thiebou djen, so  we decided to start of in west harlem, & progress southward, with our ultimate destination her house, downtown on the extreme east side.  i figured we would only be making one or two stops, & that it would be an early evening.

heh-heh.

i have a deep, & loving history with the national dish of senegal.  it all started in fort greene, but doesn't everything?

in fort greene, i was the chef @ the both famous, & infamous Brooklyn Moon Cafe, epicenter of the both famous & infamous spoken word movement: a fun, magical place & time that shaped the person & chef that i am today.  it was @ Brooklyn Moon that i experienced the full, enthusiastic support of my community for the first time.  my community you ask? the nappy, unsung multicultural, mostly black artists of the early '90s.  this is a lost era that is actually  hidden in plain view: these are the innovators behind the music you listen to, the books you read, the movies you watch - a community that started with this healing nucleus, & fanned out worldwide.  a community that includes but is not limited to erykah badu, saul williams, common, mos def, - again not name dropping, just reminiscing - & a whole bunch of other luminaries of visual art, music, media, & letters  whose names may never be known to the general public.  it was here that i got full control of a menu for the first time.  here that one of the fly-assed editors of the brilliant, soul shifting Honey magazine first hired me as their astrologer.  here that i met & bonded with some of  my all time aces & when my bones are either laid to rest, cremated, or donated to science, it will be to here that my soul returns:  to sip, for the 11th hour @ chamomile tea, with live manuka honey, & meyer lemon juice, talk concepts with the dear friends that i am feeding, leisurely &  by request, their favorite foods ever.  this is my vision of heaven.

anyway, next door to brooklyn moon, there was a place that me & my friend Sumitra ordered out from so much that even though its name was Keur N'dye, we called it Near & Dear.  yes.  chefs order out all the time, & yes.  it was that good.  the thiebou djen was just what the doctor ordered, every single time.  got. dammit.
the fish was always soulful - a strong fresh fishy taste that could only be bluefish.  the hot sauce had to be homemade.  the braised cabbage, carrots, eggplant & yucca, a simple labor of the purest, most patient love.  & who in their lives could ever forget the joloff rice?  not i.  it literally haunted me.  if i hadn't had it in three days or more - well that would have never happened.  so i have no pithy comment for that.  but i know this: the owners, Shalif & his gorgeous wife knew me as as a (chronically addicted) patron, so when i told them that i was taking chef NEXT DOOR to their venerated establishment, what did they do?  they publicly patronized my brunch every sunday.

salt of the earth!

& then they were gone. like just a few years ago.  poof!  having left a whole in my very soul, i tried to fill the void with joloff, down the road a bit, & every bit as good, but my teeth having been cut on the Keur N'dye recipe, nothing could ever be the same.  desperate & more than a little hopeless, i began making it for friends, then for parties.  & the whole thing must be made.  from scratch - hot sauce, marinade, & no step is really complicated.  perfect frozen for a head of household on the go to heat @ his/her convenience, for entertaining, or on a rainy/snowy/hot/humid/dry/busy/slow/afternoon/night/morning?  snack.  this is fish crack.  it is not a game.

so when i moved back uptown a few years ago, & heard about the african places uptown, i thought, ok.  maybe.

everyone knows about Africa Kiine on 116th.  but to be honest, the thiebou djen's lack of consistency (sometimes great!  sometimes non-existent or noticeably nuked on the way from the kitchen - how ROMANTIC) is a turn off.  read a review of Keur Sokhna on 7th ave btwn 133rd & 132nd that intrigued me enough to try it.

b/c of the first name, Keur (as in N'dye), & the second name, Sokhna, (which is the name of one of my sister-goddess fellow hippie mother friends) i thought that omen wise, i was in the right place.

we picked up some takeout, & even though we couldn't wait to eat, sped off to the first second & third markets, which was almost our last, b/c in a smaller town we would almost have gotten arrested.

Lifethyme, on sixth avenue in the west village, is always a winner.  airy space, w/fresh juices, a fine salad bar, & my favorites - hemp milk, anyone? it's genius juice for Nashira -  can almost always be found on sale.  i wish the produce section were bigger & more accessible, but in general, for your organic, superfood, & even beauty needs, Lifethyme is a go to.  i was able to find my grass fed heavy cream, but no Whip It!  the sweet earnest girl @ the register said that she had just sold the last packets earlier in the day.

damn!  on to Cittarella - but while the overpriced fish is always of great quality, either the buyer is on their third & final lobotomy, or they are a front for the italian mob (does that exist anymore?  really?):  there is N.O.T.H.I.N.G. on the shelves.  walking the aisles here is an exercise in frustration.  & no Whip It!

onward.

Whole Paycheck:  the thing about Whole Foods is that they are some of the best @ merchandising, they have one of the best selections of exotic & organic, & with convenient locations popping up all over the city, how could you, why would you resist?  the fact that i can sometimes find better stuff cheaper here than @ overpriced, questionable, weirdly filthy-around-the-edges places like gristede's or food emporium - markets that are really hateful, & to be avoid @ all costs - is a plus.  the minuses?  while the customer service is the bomb, the customers themselves leave much to be desired.  Fairway, my beloved sweetheart for many years is just as crowded, but i have never had certain exchanges there.  exchanges like the time when the broad from the upper east side wanted to school me on wiping stuff up from the floor - excuse me, but doesn't the staff do that?  & why do i need your help, exactly, even if i were going to attempt to wipe up spills in a busy market?  i have never been sneered @ in Fairway.  & i have never had the feeling that the crowdedness of the market was my fault.  not so @ Whole Paycheck.  there seems to be a class issue there.  as i said the staff is great, but the customers - whoooo-eeee!  (& BTW i heard something horrible, from a good source:  that the owner is a libertarian.  yuck.  rand paul, anyone?  the thought of possibly putting my hard earned money in the hands of a could-be tea-partier is truly the worst)  which is why i had to lend S my total support, when she sidled up to me Nashira in tow, muttering something about security following her.  deep in my search for Whip It!  i was oblivious to her struggles:  a woman plowed into her w/her cart apparently "while the bitch was looking dead @" S, @ which point S was left with no other option but to knee the woman in her side.i had no time to figure out particulars - mid cackle i turned to the customer service rep & asked about my product.
"try TJ's"  he said unequivocally... of course in the frenzy of the moment, subtlety went out the window, forcing me to ask him to repeat himself until he had to spell out the obvious for all to hear:  Trader Joes.  i thought it was pretty generous of him; all things considered, the trip was a bloodbath.

TJ's is very down to earth.  but that line is NOT to be fucked with.  i installed S & Nashira, who was a perfect angel of poise throughout this retail ordeal, on said line, prompting S, who was still shaking with rage, to blurt out, "i feel like i've dealt with all the toxic waste of shopping, & yet have not obtained one thing - i should have $600 worth of groceries right now, with all i've been through.  i don't have shit."  the natives, i realized were constructing a mutiny.  & to top everything else off, NO dice.

outside, S was like, "i feel like the indians will have it... i really do... & anyway Kalyustan is really a jewish/middle eastern market now - "  & we were on our way to curry hill.  usually when i come here, i go to India Spice & Sweet, on lexington between 27th & 28th - but those guys are purists.  only the most rare & hard to find indian ingredient, please - fresh curry leaves? check.  anardana (dried mango seeds)? check.  black salt from india?  check.  Whip It?  while i felt hugely disloyal, it was the only thing i needed, & i hated to waste their time.  with Kalyustan's sitting there, true to S's word, looking like a displaced Zabar's, i had to go to the left, not the right.  the whole thing was a scene out of Big Night.  anywhoo, while i was in there - Nashira & S opted to wait in the car & i know that this is because S gives Nashira sweets while i am not looking - S hopped across the street for Kashmiri Chai, which is an endearing pink, w/a crunch of pistachios - amazing!  so when i came out empty handed, i wasn't totally crushed.  @ least i had some agar & cornstarch two substitutes, i had heard, for Whip It!

we headed back to the pad.

Nashira had a well-deserved meltdown, demanding (to my utter, un-fun mom consternation) Dora & Diego, & since it was the day before her birthday, it was going to have to be her way, so after eating some of the theibou djen,  which, while fresh tasting, was good but not great, we plopped her in front of Diego, Dora, a drum, & S's 14 year old son, who Nashira adores, & got to business.  after all the stress of the day, once i had laid out my ingredients, the silence was deafening:  S had passed out, my baby was hypnotized, & my only company was M, S's brilliant, gorgeous 14 year old son, investigating what all the blender noise was.  upon discovering that it was whipped cream, he kept slithering around & being really cute & a little bit sleazy about wanting seconds, then thirds of schlag.

the only accompaniment in the house was hot chocolate - & that is what i served him.  when i noticed him having to break up the rich dollops of heavy cream with his spoon, i felt partially fulfilled. Nashira was out of wipes, so i ran downstairs to the corner store, breezing past a gristede's on the way.  disapprovingly, i sniffed, full of spite @ the sub-par market.
& then? 

just on a whim, before i could stop myself, i was in the belly of the beast of the stale smelling market looking @ a whole aisle of Dr. Oetker products including Whip It!?!?

yes.  Whip It!

since all the grass-fed stuff was gone, i was forced to get commercial cream, & even though it was commercial, it was a good thing.  upon revisiting the original batches of schlag, the agar or the cornstarch had solidified, leaving small beads behind.  not what's up.  i did it again with the regular cream, & we all enjoyed yet another cup of hot chocolate & can't wait to make it again with the grassfed cream, b/c it was as delicious in the first cup as it was in the last - a consistent product.

whew! Nashira was happy...

y'all have been through enough, right?  so without further ado, the recipes of the week, w/pics from the last post above:

thiebou djen:

3 # bluefish, filleted, clean of all scales & blood*
2 heads cabbage
3 cups cracked rice
1 bunch carrots
2 heads eggplant
2 long sticks yucca
6 whole tomatoes, quartered
butter 6 TBSP + 4 TBSP hexane free palm oil
honey 2-4 TBSP
1 bunch cilantro
1 head garlic separated into cloves
6 scotch bonnet or habanero peppers halved
2 green bell peppers chopped coarsely
1 yellow or orange bell pepper chopped coarsely
anchovies
1 bunch parsely
few sprigs thyme

preheat oven to 375

1- blend together the cilantro, parsley, garlic save four cloves, green bell, 1/2 habanero peppers, & the anchovies with 1/4 cup water to form a paste.  slather this on the fish, & bake for 1 & 1/2 hrs, till crispy around the edges. 
 2 - roast tomatoes w/1-2 TBSP honey, & butter till gel-like, 1 & 1/2 - 2 hours, puree.
3 - braise the carrots in one pan with 1-2 TBSP honey, & 1/2 cup water, 2 TBSP butter till fork tender.
4 - in a pot, do the same with the cabbage butter & thyme, omit honey till soft
5 - in a pot, cover the yucca w/water & 1 TBSP butter & simmer till soft
6 - steam cracked rice w/remaining butter pureed tomatoes, & half of the palm oil
7 - blend together remaining peppers, the reserved garlic, & the yellow or orange bell pepper w/salt & pepper & a little water till a thick paste.  handle with care.

serve on one gorgeous, large platter.  enjoy. 

*(a long note, but an important one:  you can wash the fish off w/a brief soak in a lot of water with a  little salt & vinegar,  but if you have the time, i urge you to brine!!!  in a 2 - qut. saucepan, boil 1 qut of water with 1 cup of salt & 1/2 cup of sugar.  you can add any spices that you think way add to your recipe, in this case, lemon, fresh garlic, a touch of hot pepper but not too much.once these are boiled together, let the brine cool, then marinated the fish in this mixture, covered in the fridge for 2 hours.  remove from liquid & cook as normal.  for some mystical reason, this works by osmosis, the liquids exchange places, & the flavor is off the chain!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

more on kashimiri chai next week - this, one of my few concessions to fusion, shall be served w/next week's thiebou djen...

***oh!  p.s. a correction:  i meant to refer to my second husband as Tommy Chong, (not, incorrectly, Cong).  all the other husbands remain the same.***

thank you for your time.

C.R.E.A.M.: an intro with thoughts on schlag, butter, & pasteurization, & of course wu-tang!

peter luger is serious money.  i can't remember if we made a reservation, or not, but it was in celebration with my foodie father - could have been the fact of simon & schuster liking my manuscript - the details are vague...
& one of the reasons for this is that the meat - fabulous - perfectly marbled, aged (feelings out there are mixed - do you prefer aged or un-aged meat?  does it gross you out?) to a melting texture that slid down the gullet & begged more from the belly - was completely eclipsed by something called schlag.

who wants to put that in your mouth, you ask?  anyone that loves butter, whipped cream, milk, ice cream or used to but can't anymore b/c of lactose intolerance -

schlag.

the answer - or in my case, the question:  how is this crap made?

a bit about the thought process of this particular chef/blogger, & the reason for this blog, really.

i have been a kitchen professional since 1989 let's not go into a full-blown resume here, but by way of introduction, i will spell out some of my experience:

i started as a tender (potty-mouthed) youth in LA - strange, as i am a native of NY & LA is not exactly known for its food culture as every anorexic must be camera ready, but in my case, this was very healing:  on the left coast, the girls are in charge.  without that backbone of experience, i don't know how i would have weathered the hurricane of misogyny called east coast kitchens.

the first gig was @ a place called Queen of Cups, a psychic cafe - more on this as the blog progresses.  in 1991 i was picked up by Evan Kleinman & Vianna La Place, two savvy lady chefs whose cookbooks i owned @ the time - a concentration on lightening up traditional traittoria cuisine.

but we agreed to no resume, right?  every high point - & i leave out no low point - will appear either anectdotally, organically, or as part of a recipe, but let's leave it @ this for just now:  in NY i did the circuit, including Union Square Cafe when it was Union Square Cafe, although i was nothing but a lowly oyster shucker/garde manger chick.  however the story was much different for Aqua Grill, since i was on sautee the night that the New York Times awarded that despot his first stars - yes.  he threatened my life.  & yes, he ate his words by the time the kitchen wrapped that night.

this is becoming suspiciously resume-ish, so the point is, that in addition to the aforementioned restaurant experience, i have run my own catering company (in fits & starts) since 1995, when i catered my first (tragically) low budget film, for my grrrrrrrrrrl joy phillips - not name dropping.  reminiscing.  since then, my love affair with food has taken me to more than one continent, all over the country, into the intimate settings of some of the most interesting people, & my @ home entertaining has allowed me to dance with the muses & keep the creation process consistently evolving.  food, & the spirituality of its preparation has saved my life, sanity, & kept some of my lovers around long past the point of diminishing returns.  in reading around @ some of the wonderful food blogs out there (goddess knows there are enough) i noticed one thing missing:

my voice!

& why do you care?

because i am a maniac.  there is nowhere i will not go to get the special ingredient, to link the ancient cuisines for identification, to find out the special method & make it accessible, so that you, my friends/readers, not only CAN make that seemingly impossible creation, but that you WANT to.

& something else, friends, here is where i will be releasing excerpts of my upcoming cookbook, HEAT in serial form.

by the way of introduction, i will make two promises.  i will never leave you without a recipe, or something to chew on, or both -  LOL!

Back To The Schlag:

Gourmet used to have a column called You Asked For It:  they would go to various HIGH END restaurants & charm them out of their most coveted, popular recipes, which would come out in the magazine in a monthly advice column format.  i invite you to send in your most burning questions about favorite dishes in favorite restaurants, but i think the folks @ Peter Luger would probably punch my nameless ass in the mouth if i rolled up talking about, can you give me this recipe for publication, so i obsessively researched the components, & this is what i came up with - oh last thing - i am trying this out by the weekend, so next monday, look for the step-by-step with pics.

& yes, my theme song is C.R.E.A.M. i must have some sort of a soundtrack when i cook - it may or may not be music from the country of origin, but it must be inspiring.  more about my husband Method Man later.
ok, here goes:

i think we left off @ the name:  schlag.  how unfortunate.  but when i had this atop apple strudel (& i am much more of a salty, fatty meat girl than a dessert girl)  i wanted to lay down & die of happiness.

it was like whipped cream, only much better.  somehow thicker AND lighter.  i thought, this is what all whipped cream wants to be...
but on every blog i encountered, the answer was disappointingly  simple: whip cream until almost butter-like.

{the purest BS - for my 8th birthday, my mother, on my suggestion, made strawberry shortcake, & even though she is third generation genius cook (she opted out of becoming an actual chef like her grandmother all in the name of feminism), she made the classic rookie mistake - whipped the cream to almost butter - & it was good, but it wasn't no schlag.}

no, that didn't sound right @ all - more research confirmed this, upon my purchase, a few weeks ago of  raw, unpasteurized grass-fed cream, which has a layer of sexy, thickened cream ON TOP of the liquid.  this had to literally be squeezed from the bottle.

finally in the REPLY section of one food blog, i came across a product from Germany called 'Sahnesteif' - a modified starch thickener/stabilizer.  some lovely soul remembers her grandmother adding it to schlag when she was a wee lass - oh wait that's irish, right? - i knew that this was part of schlag's velvety secret.

Ingredients:

1 cup grass fed heavy cream (preferably Milk Thistle Farms - the best!  & local to NY!)
1 packet Sahnesteif
1 tsp bourbon vanilla
1 tsp sugar - if you want to go heavier with sugar, you can, but i would go even lighter - lets the cream taste come through

Method:

1 - whip all together either by hand with a whisk or in a mixer with a whisk attachment until the cream is a texture between extremely stiff peaks & butter. 
2 - you do not want for the liquid to separate from the cream; just extremely stiff peaks.
3 - when you serve this with dessert, yell, 'mit schlag!'  - apparently that's how the germans do it - means, 'with schlag!', lol.

a word on Method:  as in Man. as in Method Man, as in my Other Husband.  it is my dream to interview him - why would i need to interview him if he is my husband, you ask?  oh well, we'll get to that later. - in my segment on hallucenogenic foods - that's a roundtable with my other two husbands, Tommy Cong, & Dave Chappelle.

so okay, look out for pics next monday. if you try it before me, PLEASE let me know how it worked out. i won't be trying it out until sunday, when i can blast 36 chambers, & dance around with my daughter Nashira.

cash rules everything around me...

see you next week, & thank you for your time!