Archive for the ‘eating’ Category


Jenny’s Nutty Granola with fresh blueberries, Spoon Size Shredded Wheat and Hudson Valley Fresh milk.

I’m crazy about the tastiness, texture and nutrition of good granola, and while there are many on the market, most are too sweet for my taste. So for several years now, I’ve been making my own version, full of the nuts that I adore and lots of other components that bring flavor, protein, vitamins and minerals to the party.

Now if I don’t have it every day, I feel cheated. And I’m decidedly not one of those, “I’ll have the usual” types. I love variety and love to mix things up, on the table and otherwise. But I can never have this stuff too often, so when I run out I have to make more ASAP. Fortunately, I currently have a gig in a natural foods store where it’s convenient and not too expensive for me to buy most of the ingredients in bulk.

While it may look like a lot of items on the list, my granola is uncomplicated to make, and contains three groups of items. The first assortment is the oats, nuts and seeds tossed together in a bowl.





Then the mixture is drizzled with bit of sweetness, healthy fat and flavorings, tossed and toasted in the oven.


The first two groups of ingredients after a bit of baking.

After the lot is redolent with the aromas of toasted nuts, vanilla and heady cinnamon wafting into the air, you just fold in the remaining ingredients, cool and store. Don’t forget to taste test!

This is not a clumpy granola but lovely sprinkled on cereal, yogurt or plain. I put it on my cereal every morning (usually Spoon Size Shredded Wheat or Heritage Flakes), and top with berries and milk. So good!

Give it a shot, and feel free to customize it according to your granola-y preferences, perhaps all of one nut instead of three kinds (2 cups), or maybe sub your faves like hazelnuts or macadamias. You can use less coconut oil, or more maple syrup or another sweetener that you like better. You can skip any seeds you don’t love, or maybe use dried cherries or blueberries instead of the cranberries. Make it your own (and make it often)!

I welcome questions and comments and would love to hear from you!


Jenny’s Nutty Granola

Jenny’s Nutty Granola

Makes 16 1/2-cup servings
Group 1

3 cups oats

2/3 cup pecans, chopped coarsely

2/3 cup walnuts, chopped coarsely

2/3 cup almonds, chopped coarsely

1/3 cup raw pumpkin seeds

¼ cup raw, unsalted sunflower seeds

¼ cup wheat germ


Group 2

¼ cup water

¼ cup virgin coconut oil (melted if solid)

3 tablespoons maple syrup

1 teaspoon cinnamon

1 teaspoon vanilla

1/4 teaspoon salt


Group 3

2/3 cup diced dried apples

2/3 cup dried cranberries

1/2 cup dried date pieces

1/2 cup unsweetened shredded coconut

1/3 cup chia seeds

¼ cup ground flax meal


  1. Preheat oven to 325° F.
  2. Mix together first group of ingredients. Mix together second group and pour over oat mixture. Toss to mix, then spread in foil-lined 10 x 15 pan.
  3. Bake for 22 minutes, then stir and bake another 15 minutes, stir and bake 5-10 minutes more or until golden. Toss together last group of ingredients and mix in. Let cool and store in airtight container.
A 1/4 cup serving contains about 170 calories, 5.5g protein, 37 mg sodium and 7.5g sugars.


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This writer/editor/cook/teacher/former nurse is adding another hat: food tour operator. I’m launching a business called Hudson Valley Food Tours and will be running my first culinary crawls in Rhinebeck soon. I’ve had this in the works for quite a while–years, really–so it’s very exciting for me to be finally giving it a go.

Of course, like many a worthy project, it’s turning out to require much more time, thought and preparation than I anticipated, making the busy life of a single mom of teenagers even more hectic than I even thought possible. But that’s okay!

Although I think the gig is a very, very good fit for me, meshing with my aptitudes and skills and a perfect complement to my other interests and activities, I can’t do it alone. I’ve realized that while I can be on the shy side I’m happier around other people and wouldn’t do well in a room alone at the computer all day every day. I’ll never stop being a writer (“are you still writing?”, people ask me, as if I could stop!) and writing is part of the food tour biz, too, but now I have a fun new way to get out there.

Although I’m officially a “sole proprietor,” this new endeavor is requiring the help of many people and I couldn’t do it alone. Friends and family have been wonderfully encouraging. The other food tour operators I’ve reached out to around the country have been tremendously helpful and generous with their time. Luckily one of them is nearby, only two hours north of me, and invited me to attend a tour this weekend. Joe Haedrich of Saratoga Springs Food Tours very kindly took an entire afternoon out of his busy schedule to show me the ropes of a real tour. Seeing how a food tour operates, on the spot, right there, was a great way to jump in a get a real feel for how things work.

Plus it was just great fun. Saratoga has an awesome, sprawling farmers market, and I got to meet some of the farmers and artisans who had been chosen to participate in the market, like Anna Mae, a beautiful fourth generation farmer who offers jams and jellies made from ingredients she grew herself (except for cranberries and citrus).

Anna Mae.

Anna Mae.

I experienced time travel to the distant past at the lovely Old Bryan Inn, a tavern that dates to 1773, and enjoyed a tasty, tender Balsamic Beef Tip Bruschetta. I was able to taste exquisite olive oils, vinegars and honeys of much finer quality than I’m used to at Saratoga Olive Oil Co. and Saratoga Tea & Honey Company.

I hadn’t been to Saratoga since Grateful Dead concerts years ago. For many the name of the small city evokes horse racing and little else. But thanks to Joe I was able to discover a new side of the town spiced up with his entertaining commentary and stories. He showed me various neighborhoods, many beautiful historic buildings and the lovely Yaddo Gardens at the artists’ retreat Yaddo (where my late dad, the author Donald Harington was in residence when I was a child) and of course the historic and famous Saratoga Raceway that occupies a large part of town but doesn’t dominate its loveliness.

Great to have a change of scenery in such a great town and in such good company.


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A Montauk Beach

A quiet Montauk Beach.

It’s not often enough that I can get away for sun, sand and seafood. I ought to live near the ocean; being landlocked, albeit near the beautiful Hudson River, doesn’t always cut it for me. But thanks to a dear friend I got to go to a beautiful seaside spot last week, at the tip of Long Island’s South Fork, jutting out into the Atlantic.

There I had a feast for all the senses: sunsets so hot and stunning they dazed my eyes, soothing waves crashing and gulls screaming softly, briny breezes in my nostrils, soft sand between my toes, exquisite food and drink, and most of all, good company.

Watermelon margarita and blood orange margarita at FishBar, Montauk.

Fruity margaritas at FishBar, Montauk.


I’ve been there a few times before, in spring, fall, and then last year, finally, in the summer, but this was the longest, sunniest trip, and glorious all around.

A motel kitchenette for preparing oysters and littlenecks on the half shell and sauteed swordfish tidbits was the spot for the first feast, then another day it was off to FishBar for drinks, a watermelon margarita for me and a blood orange one for my companion.

We ordered a couple appies: soft shell crab with grilled watermelon, pea tendrils and yuzu yellow beet emulsion, and a flaxseed-crusted tuna tartare with avocado and spicy aïoli, topped with slivers of pickled watermelon radish. (The watermelon theme a welcome constant.)

Appies at FishBar. Photo by Nicholas Panayotou

Appies at FishBar. Photo by Nicholas Panayotou










With bellies not yet full, we went for a glorious platter of fresh local sea scallops, pan seared and drizzled with lemon butter and fresh herbs, over a hash of chorizo, watermelon radish, crispy rainbow potatoes, kalamata olives, fava beans, house-dried tomatoes and yellow beets.

Sea scallops at FishBar.

Sea scallops at FishBar.


On the last night we ate at Gosman’s Inlet Café, a perennial favorite for sushi and other good food and a beautiful view of the harbor, a constant stream of all manner of boats gliding to and fro. After a couple of good sushi rolls, we had a lush lobster roll studded with generous chunks of sweet lobster. Although under seasoned and not as good at the one we had at FishBar last year, it was satisfying and accompanied by quality coleslaw and fries.

Lobster roll from Gosman's Inlet Cafe.

Lobster roll from Gosman’s Inlet Cafe.

The grilled local yellowfin tuna topped with eggplant caponata on a bed of orzo was rich and flavorful.

Local yellowfin tuna topped with caponata.

Local yellowfin tuna topped with caponata.

A classic Montauk sunset capped things off,

Sunset at Montauk harbor.

Sunset at Montauk harbor.




















but for me the seafood feasting wasn’t over. Returning to Gosman’s Market the next morning before departing, I stashed some super-fresh local squid and a nice chunk of tilefish on ice in my cooler to bring home. I kept the sea bounty flowing the next few nights with fried calamari

Fried calamari with a variety of coatings: masa harina, flour, flour and grits.

Fried calamari with a variety of coatings: masa harina, flour, flour and grits.

and spaghetti neri

Spaghetti al nero delle seppie, a Sicilian dish.

Spaghetti al nero delle seppie, a Sicilian dish.

(testing recipes for my upcoming cephalopod cookery book). The squid was so impossibly fresh when I bought it four days ago that my leftover spaghetti neri for dinner tonight was still scrumptious. And I pan-roasted the tilefish with garlic and herbs. This fish, which I don’t believe I’d had before,  lives on crabs, making its flesh sweet and succulent.

Pan-roasted tilefish with garlic and herbs.

Pan-roasted tilefish with garlic and herbs.

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It’s not too often that strangers invite you to their home for a sumptuous dinner, but in this age of Facebook and LinkedIn, sometimes we get to be friends of a sort before we ever meet face to face, and thus luck is with us.

Such was my introduction, via LinkedIn, to Hiroko Shimbo, an author of three books on Japanese cooking. Last Sunday she kindly invited me–and three of her friends–to the weekend home of her husband Buzz and herself, which is only about ten minutes from me.

Six is the perfect number for dinner, per M.F.K. Fisher, and perfect and perfectly enjoyable it was, in spite of the fact I was meeting everyone for the first time.


Jeremiah Stone and Hiroko Shimbo oversee the beef on the binchotan. Photo by Jennifer Harington Brizzi

Buzz was welcoming and affable and Hiroko herself was warm and friendly, too, adorable with her small and energetic frame, pageboy and bangs, and a ready smile. Also on hand were Giuseppe from Colombia and Jeremiah Stone, a chef on the cusp of opening, with a partner, the eagerly anticipated Contra on Manhattan’s Lower East Side, a “neo-bistro” that will offer a $55 tasting menu of five courses.

Hiroko Shimbo and Jeremiah Stone oversee the beef on the binchotan. Photo by Jennifer Harington Brizzi

Jeremiah Stone and Hiroko Shimbo. Photo by Jennifer Harington Brizzi

Also there was Annette Tomei, a very knowledgeable and experienced chef, sommelier, and food and wine consultant, based currently in Brooklyn and at www.vineducation.com. Good company indeed.

Hiroko is an accomplished chef who consults for many food companies and restaurants and also teaches cooking at the International Culinary Center in New York (formerly the French Culinary Institute). Her first book, which I’ve owned and used for years without ever dreaming I’d meet the author, is the award-winning The Japanese Kitchen (Harvard Common Press, 2000).  Her second is The Sushi Experience (Knopf, 2006) and her most recent, Hiroko’s American Kitchen: Cooking with Japanese Flavors (Andrews McMeel, 2012), which won the International Association of Culinary Professionals’ 2013 Cookbook Award under the American category.

After some refreshing young ginger tea, we assembled in the garage and sipped the couple’s scrumptious homemade umeshu (plum liqueur) as we nibbled peanuts and a Bobolink cheese and watched Hiroko assemble the cooking apparatus she’d be cooking some of dinner on. A Weber filled with sand (because the fire would be so hot it could melt through the metal), then regular Kingsford charcoal, and two types of Japanese charcoal, one to get it going, and then binchotan, a special one made of slow-burning oak and imported from Japan. It burns extremely hot for quick and perfect cooking. A pile of pale gray bricks specially arranged contained the intense and nearly smokeless fire.

Before we knew it, it was time to gather around the dining table for the first course, a silky smooth magenta chilled beet soup, garnished with bits of dried beet and a quenelle of lemon sorbet.

Chilled beet soup. Photo by Hiroko Shimbo

Chilled beet soup. Photo by Hiroko Shimbo

Then came what may well be my favorite part, a beautifully arranged quartet of baby vegetables lightly simmered in a delectable broth to drink after eating the veggies.

Eggplant, turnip, tomato, and squash simmered in broth. Photo by Hiroko Shimbo

Eggplant, turnip, tomato, and squash simmered in broth. Photo by Hiroko Shimbo

Then came top sirloin steaks of Australian grass-fed beef seared over the binchotan, with an Australian Shiraz, natch, and lima beans with fresh corn (also grilled) and baby eggplants (ditto).

Young ginger cake with plums and lemon sorbet. Photo by Jennifer Harington Brizzi

Young ginger cake with plums and lemon sorbet. Photo by Jennifer Harington Brizzi

The conversation lingered on many topics as we enjoyed a dessert of a lovely cake made with young ginger. It  was a true treat for me to be in such distinguished company and I was very grateful to have been invited to this delightful evening. Thank you Hiroko and Buzz!

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Fideua up close.

Fideua up close.

Celebrating anything at the home of my sister Calico and her family in the New Haven suburb where they live is always über festive, from their annual elegant Bastille Day sit-downs to their rollicking Oktoberfests.

But last night’s dinner to celebrate Calico’s half-century mark was something special indeed, with plenty of amazing food, drink and merriment.

Glasses of Jaume Serra Cristallino Brut cava, pistachios, beer nuts, and rosemary-spiked marcona almonds started things off right.

Ceviche to start. Photo by Jennifer Harington Brizzi

Ceviche to start.

Then the table was set with a perfectly balanced tangy and smooth gazpacho and small plates of a zesty ceviche of monkfish, scallops and squid, gilded with avocado slices.

Appetites piqued, we moved on to enjoy Mig’s fideua, a sort of Catalan paella with toasted pasta instead of rice.

Fideua, a pasta-based cousin of paella. Photo by Jennifer Harington Brizzi

Fideua, a pasta-based cousin of paella.

This one was well-crafted and bursting with clams, mussels, and shrimp and a rich saffron garlic flavor.

Garden bounty on the side.

Garden bounty on the side.

Sides included a beautiful nasturtium salad and tomatoes fresh from the garden. My favorite Spanish red Marques de Caceres was on hand, along with an assortment of other fine examples.

Miles. Photo by Jennifer Harington Brizzi


Dessert was a collection of several excellent Spanish cheeses served with quince paste, digestifs from chartreuse to calvados to pear williams to Branca Menta. Finally there was a soft moist and delectable almond cake made by the chef.

Almond cake with ice cream.

Almond cake with ice cream.

I was happy to see my mother on hand for the occasion, as well as my nephew Miles home from his sophomore year at UConn Storrs. Happy 50th, Calico!!

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On a fine day at The Roundhouse at the Falls in Beacon, you can sit outside on an expansive patio overlooking a dramatic waterfall and consume good beer and tasty tidbits, a perfect way to while away a lazy summer afternoon. Today a friend and I did just that, beginning with a couple of pints of golden brew, both selections murky,  with hints of coriander and orange, and nods to Belgium. Slightly more golden in hue than the other, the Clown Shoes Clementine was a Belgian-style white ale (witbier) from Massachusetts ($7), refreshing, crisp and nicely balanced. The other was a nice light dry lemon-yellow Hennepin from Ommegang in upstate NY ($6) .

Shoestring Fries and Crispy Chick Peas from the patio menu at The Roundhouse at the Falls in Beacon. Photo by Jennifer Harington Brizzi

Shoestring Fries and Crispy Chick Peas from the patio menu at The Roundhouse at the Falls in Beacon. Photo by Jennifer Harington Brizzi

Irresistible crispy shoestring fries drizzled with melted smoked Gouda and scattered with lemon zest and roasted garlic ($5) were perfect with the beers, as were coppery-colored chick peas deep-fried and dusted with non-spicy chorizo spices ($5). A creamy mascarpone-enriched mac and cheese studded generously with chunks of lobster was next ($12).


Mac & Cheese (with mascarpone and lobster). Photo by Jennifer Harington Brizzi

Mac & Cheese (with mascarpone and lobster). Photo by Jennifer Harington Brizzi

Service from friendly Edward–and others–was absolutely perfect. Rain showers kindly waited until all was consumed, and after driving most patrons indoors, it dispersed, and out came the sun again.

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Luscious 18-month-old jamón serrano at Panzur. Photo by Jennifer Harington Brizzi

Luscious 18-month-old jamón serrano at Panzur. Photo by Jennifer Harington Brizzi

Good Spanish restaurants aren’t a dime a dozen in the part of the Hudson Valley where I live. The only one in the area–El Castillo Español–closed not long ago, so I was happy to hear that Rei Peraza, whose cooking I enjoyed at El Hotel Rhinecliff a few years ago, had opened a tapas place with his own distinctive stamp in Tivoli, an offshoot of Red Hook in northwest Dutchess County. No tortilla española or shrimp al ajillo here; it’s all about imaginative nose-to-tail stuff. But you can’t skip the jamón, Spain’s funky hearty sweet version of prosciutto, and we didn’t either. My kid’s a pescatarian, but quality cured pig leg is where she draws the occasional line.

The other day, with slightly more time and cash in my pocket than I’m used to, I swung by Panzur with my 11-year-old daughter for a tapa or two. I worked in the kitchen of that space for one long week about 12 years ago in one of its many previous incarnations, but it looks markedly different. Two eating areas with a central bar opened things up and made for an interesting division of the space, and bold art on the walls offers a modern lift.

You can’t have just one tapa and there were many temptations on the menu, rarities like rabbit rillettes and potted pig head, seasonal items like ramps and fiddleheads. Everything sounded delectable;  I would love to go with a big group and try lots of things.

Black fried squid. Photo by Jennifer Harington Brizzi

Black fried squid. Photo by Jennifer Harington Brizzi

I was craving cephalopods and unfortunately the octopus brick I’d seen on the online menu was out of date, so we had black fried squid, a tasty and visually arresting dish. Dark super crispy morsels (I love that they’re called squid, not “calamari’) were showered with alliums and dusted with smoky pimentón powder. On the side was a large long schmear of luscious deep dark squid ink allioli. I would bathe in that stuff. Fortunately the waiter snatched the plate away before I dipped my bread into every last speck.

I had a glass of sparkly cava, a crisp Catalonian Mont Marcal Brut Reserve Penedès 2010, and my daughter some black currant tea tivoli 2013, which came with lots of lemon and agave syrup, a nice touch. For the two drinks and tapas it set us back about $55 including tip. When my ship comes in I want to go back and make my way through the menu.

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Here’s a “Ravenous” column of mine from a few years back:

Image courtesy of Salvatore Vuono at FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Image courtesy of Salvatore Vuono at FreeDigitalPhotos.net

A funky wooden spoon made of aromatic wood sticks out of the utensil crock on my counter, too intense-smelling for stirring any old wimpy soup. I don’t know what kind of wood it is, but I got it years ago at an African store on Ninth Ave. in Manhattan and it still smells so pungent, so heady, so good, that I only use if for African or Brazilian stews, something with lots of garlic, dried smoked shrimp, chunks of exotic tubers and bright orange palm oil. But mostly I just take it out and smell it for the fun of it and wish I could go to Africa.

With a landmass four times the size of the United States, Africa is beyond our wildest imaginings in size alone, and thus impossible to sum up. Its name evokes scary thoughts mostly: safaris, savages, starving children, vicious wars, apartheid, all manner of strife and suffering. But when it comes to its resources (historically raped and plundered), its culture and music (roots of our own) and its food (also roots of our own, more than we realize), Africa is endlessly rich and alluring, irresistible to try to discover in whatever measure we can.

African spoon. Photo by Jennifer Harington Brizzi

African spoon. Photo by Jennifer Harington Brizzi

It’s not the only continent I haven’t yet set foot on, but probably the one I want to see the worst. Not that I could “see” it, in a visit, or a hundred. It’s so gigantic that I could study it for ten lifetimes and not begin to know it. So until that first and maybe only, too-short trip, I’ll just keep listening to its music, reading what I can, and of course eating Africa, which means not just cooking recipes for African, Caribbean and “soul food” dishes, and seeking out restaurants serving those foods, but realizing that when I eat a plate of fried chicken or beans and rice or a slice of sweet potato pie, that I’m eating something that began in Africa.

The food of Africa and the diaspora where Africans went and took their foodways with them is so vast and so varied it can’t be categorized, so I won’t try, but I’ll tell you about some of the more interesting and the most delicious dishes, the things that I’ve cooked or tasted and the things I hope to cook or taste someday.

Like the baobab tree that’s common throughout much of sub-Saharan Africa (all parts of it used for nourishment), you’ll find throughout much of the continent certain elements wherever you find African eaters and cooks: peanuts/groundnuts used for oil/snack/foundation of soup or stew with meat, smoked dried fish and small animals (check out that store on Ninth Ave.), grains like cornmeal, hominy, millet and teff, fruits like bananas, melons, coconuts and mangoes, squashes, greens, cabbages, eggplants, okra, an emphasis on vegetables more than meats with a staggering variety that includes all kinds of beans and huge starchy tubers with exotic textures unknown to us, some gelatinous and some stiff, sometimes boiled, sometimes dried and reconstituted.

Perhaps least exotic to us of Africa’s many cuisines are the Mediterranean dishes of Northern Africa, from countries like Morocco and Egypt, whose preserved lemons, olives and almonds seem not so strange. We love the hearty tagines and stews over fluffy, tiny specks of couscous, the zesty kebabs, the appetizers and dips that are similar to the familiar Greek food. There’s that sweet b’stilla that’s high on my to-make-some-day list, a chicken potpie with almonds and cinnamon wrapped in phyllo dough and dusted with confectioner’s sugar.

Graphic courtesy of freedigitalphotos.net

Graphic courtesy of freedigitalphotos.net

Moving southwest across the Sahara we get to the region from whence the ancestors of most African-Americans and African-Caribbean peoples came from, where fish is a big part of the diet, where hot peppers are relished and the palm tree is plundered for plenty of palm wine and palm oil. Here is Senegal, home of the tasty lemony, oniony Chicken Yassa and the national dish Thiebou Dienne, a festive many-ingredient rice and fish stew. My favorite (and basically only) TV show is No Reservations with Anthony Bourdain on the Travel Channel, and for last Monday’s show he was in Ghana, at a “chop bar” dipping balls of rice goo into a rich orange spicy tongue stew and later eating barracuda on the beach, washing it all down with lots of beer and palm wine.

South Africa has an interesting culinary history, too, with lots of occupation by lots of different peoples. You find dishes with an obvious Dutch influence and sambals and pickles and chutneys from the Malay influence. For a cooking demo this fall at the NYS Sheep and Wool Festival I made a bobotie, a killer South African pie of curried lamb (originally game) topped with a custardy crust.

I’ve cooked a lot of Ethiopian food, a cuisine I’m particularly fond of. I’ve learned you can sauté three pounds of chopped red onions in a pan with no fat, that spiced butter is sublime and that giant pancakes only need to be cooked on one side. I could write a book on it (and someday might) but suffice it to say that many Ethiopian dishes consist of lip-tingling stews called wat that you pick up with pieces of huge spongy pancakes and that if it weren’t for some frisky Ethiopian goats we might not be drinking coffee right now.

photo courtesy of freedigitalphotos.net

photo courtesy of freedigitalphotos.net

Visitors to the Caribbean who eat only on cruise ships or in all-inclusive resorts really cheat themselves by not eating local food, which is similar in many ways to the food of Africa and really wonderful, based on fresh seafood and local fruits and vegetables. In parts of South America as well, namely Surinam, Guyana, French Guiana and much of Brazil, the cuisine is descended from African food, too.

Cuban black beans and rice, Puerto Rican pigeon peas, Jamaican kidney beans, soups thickened with okra or callaloo greens, hot peppers spicing up vinegar, rum or peanut butter, cornmeal coo coo (a starch of Barbados), numerous fish stews, crispy fritters made with salt cod or bananas and Brazilian black bean belly-bustin’ feijoada are all Caribbean and South American flavors with that African influence.

And it doesn’t end at the border. Plantation slaves made their masters healthier by cooking them the vegetables they were used to eating themselves. Louisiana Creole dishes owe their heritage not only to Europeans but to involuntary African immigrants. I grew up eating Southern food, a tradition based on (to oversimplify a bit) a large variety of vegetables with bits of tasty pork scraps, a tradition founded in large part on the African influence, and I like to cook that way often. The tasty Hoppin’ John I cooked for New Year’s Day this year (for luck and prosperity) of rice and cowpeas (like tiny brown black eyed peas but nutty rather than mushy) has its origins in a mix of beans and rice that sustained slaves en route from Africa. Tonight I’m boiling kale and collards with smoked turkey wings, serving the succulent “pot likker” with cornbread for dipping, a nourishing southern dish with African roots, too.


My own precious piece of the continent. Photo by Jennifer Harington Brizzi

Three years ago last Friday [now nine years ago–Ed.] at Newark Airport a beautiful Ethiopian toddler with big brown eyes and a white cotton costume embroidered with rich colors got off a plane holding hands with young woman who had brought him here. I picked him up and kissed his cheek and he became my son. Months earlier, when the wait for him had started, Africa and its endlessly fascinating culture and food had begun its journey into my heart, but now it’s assured that it won’t ever leave.

Other inspiration for this week’s column:

I have many books about Africa and its food but these are a few of my very favorites, highly recommended:

Iron Pots and Wooden Spoons: Africa’s Gifts to New World Cooking by Jessica B. Harris (Atheneum, 1989)

The Africa Cookbook: Tastes of a Continent by Jessica B. Harris (Simon & Schuster, 1998)

African Cooking by Laurens van der Post, (plus its spiral bound recipe book, which is very hard to find) (Time Life, Foods of the World, 1970)

Wonders of the African World by Henry Louis Gates, Jr. (Knopf, 1999)

Also worthy of note is The Soul of a New Cuisine: A Discovery of the Foods and Flavors of Africa (Wiley, 2006) by superstar chef Marcus Samuelsson of Aquavit in New York City, who was born in Ethiopia, adopted and raised in Sweden. In this book he makes African food hip.

And to listen to while you cook: Putumayo CDs: Congo to Cuba, African Odyssey and African Playground.

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Last week I visited Keegan Ales in Kingston, NY, and had this to say in Almanac Weekly: Something’s Brewing.

Keegan Ales is now offering Sunday brunches from 1 to 4 p.m. with brisket and egg tacos, breakfast burritos, cornbread, grits, and more, in addition to their regular pub menu. Adding to the ambiance you can see works by brilliant artist Dumb Won, a.k.a. Paul Heath.

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Moules Witte

Moules Witte at Ommegang Brewery’s cafe in Cooperstown, NY: mussels steamed in spiced wheat beer with cream, truffle oil and shiitake mushrooms. Photo by Jennifer Brizzi

Lately, rich domestic craft brews studded with spice have spoiled my taste for the mass-market Canadian stuff I usually like. A pricey treat when bought in the Hudson Valley where I live (3-4 hours southeast), Brewery Ommegang in Cooperstown, NY, makes Belgian-style ales that are surprisingly affordable, not only at the brewery’s café but in town as well.

Recently I traveled to Cooperstown for the first time, a place perhaps best known for the Baseball Hall of Fame. I thought I should stop by, since I was there anyway, but as baseball is not my favorite sport (although I confess I have a soft spot for the Mets), I came up with excuses not to go ($20 a ticket, hungry cats waiting at home, that sort of thing).

Even without a visit to The Hall, I found Cooperstown a charming village set on a splendid lake, well worth the trip.

Brewery OmmegangA late afternoon arrival at the Ommegang Brewery (caveat: the website is graphically pleasing but hard to navigate), set amidst fields a few miles out of town, meant a lupper (or is it linner?) for hungry bellies. Too late for a tour, my friend and I settled for a feast on the sunny but bare-bones patio outside the brewery’s café, and soon went from starving to stuffed. And happily quenched as well, thanks to some Ommegang Abbey Ale, BPA (Belgian Pale Ale), and Three Philosophers.

The brewery, as one approaches.

“In most restaurants a $6 glass of wine is vinegar, but a $6 beer is world class,” say the Ommegangers on their website, and it’s true. The brewers seem to be continually at work on discovering all the delightfully different ways that quality beer can go with food or be cooked into it.

We started with sumptuous hand-cut frites, a la Belgique, in a tall cone, perfectly double-fried and irresistible. There is a choice of seven dips, some with beer added; we picked garlic aïoli and truffle-soy aïoli, both luscious.

But better still were Moules Witte, mussels swimming in a heady mix of Witte Ale (wheat, coriander, orange peel) with cream and shiitake tidbits. We also indulged in crab croquettes and finally a charcuterie platter that arrived last, when we were full, but was too delightful–in look and taste–to skip.


A custom charcuterie platter: (back to front) walnuts, dried apricots, honey on the comb, jambon de Paris, a luscious berry jam of unknown provenance, cornichons, prosciutto di Parma, craisins, hazelnuts, Tilsit, and crusty bread.
Photo by Jennifer Brizzi

Also on offer are salads, sandwiches, waffles, sweet and savory crepes, and best of all, affordable Ommegang on tap. My favorite is the Abbey Ale, Ommegang’s first:  dark ruby, rich, and fruity yet dry.

Ommegang Abbey Ale. Photo courtesy of Ommegang’s website

The BPA is a pale ale with citrus notes, nice but it just pales (pun intended) next to the Abbey.

Ommegang also makes Rare Vos, an amber ale I have yet to try, Hennepin, a gingery golden ale (okay), that wheat Witte, and Three Philosophers (another favorite: dark, strong, malty and cherry-tinged due to the addition of 2% Belgian kriek), plus limited edition ales. At the cafe many Belgian imports are available, too, as well as three-beer flights for the indecisive. I would have loved to save room for the ice cream made with Three Philosophers, but was, alas, too stuffed.

There’s always next time…. I can’t wait to go back.


Stay tuned for a report on Keegan Ales in Kingston, Ulster County, at this site after June 22, 2012.

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