Sandwiches

My mother stayed with us during her recent visit from back east.  She emerged early each day from the back bedroom in need of coffee.  In the kitchen she would find me up to my elbows in three-grain biscuit dough or in the midst of mixing a large oven baked pancake, or perhaps dropping oatmeal scones onto a cookie sheet.  I was always in the midst of something made from scratch, time consuming and terrifically messy. 

A ritual that was met with a quizzical look and her quiet reproach, as if I couldn’t hear her say, “Nu? Whats wrong with frozen waffles?” My childhood breakfasts came straight out of a box from the freezer in the cold mid-western kitchen where I grew up.  My mother taught in downtown Detroit, and early morning school days were mostly about getting up and getting out. Yet, somewhere in between the up and out part, I remember a breakfast ritual that my mother and I shared, just her and I, before she left for work. 

I love a good fish sandwich and it has been a while since I've had one.  I came across this recipe using tilapia, a firm, forgiving and inexpensive fish.  I loved the idea of piling coleslaw over the fish and using pulverized almonds as part of the crust, making it somewhat reminiscent of sole almondine.

The sandwich was crispy, sophisticated, fun and not to mention budget-friendly.  It's a great addition to regular dinners around here.  When we get home from working in the vineyard we are starving and this will hit the spot quite nicely without feeling like a heavy meal.

The fish remained juicy within its crust and the splash of lemon was the perfect finish.  You can use any type of bread, toasting it or throwing it on the grill pan gives the sandwich a good textural contrast.

Try it out when you have some time.

From New York Magazine 

Not that anyone needs to be reminded, but April is National Grilled-Cheese Sandwich Month. In honor of this auspicious occasion, we bring you our picks for New York’s best grilled cheese, from Keller-crafted high to Kraft-oozing low.

1. ’wichcraft - 397 Greenwich St., at Beach St.; 212-780-0577
Fontina with black-trumpet mushrooms and white-truffle fondue is such a grown-up grilled cheese, you should be carded at the door.

2. Eisenberg’s Sandwich Shop - 174 Fifth Ave., nr. 22nd St.; 212-675-5096
This twenties coffee shop oozes so much Old New York charm that we’d happily tuck in to some Velveeta on a Ritz if that’s what it was offering. The fact that the sandwiches — including the grilled cheese — are first-rate is a bonus.

3. Comfort Diner - 214 E. 45th St., nr. Second Ave.; 212-867-4555
They get ahead of themselves here, celebrating with a different grilled-cheese sandwich every day during the month of February. But you can still get a good classic any time of the year.

Read article...

It's hard to believe that baseball season is about to begin again. I see bits and pieces on the news about players reporting to Spring training. I see photos of fathers and sons dressed up in their player's favorite jersey, watching an early practice, hoping to get an autograph. The excitement is building of those summer nights at the ballpark; that all-American warm, fuzzy feeling most folks associate with baseball.

My thoughts are far from warm and fuzzy, more like torture and terror. On October 30, 2007 at 2:30 am, my phone rings. I struggle to find the phone, wondering who died. I hear a voice "Hello, this is Scheduling, can I speak to Laura." All I can say is "yes?" "Laura, we have a trip for you. You are going to fly to Denver and then to Boston and back to Atlanta today." Excuse me, it's 2:30 am, is this a joke? When did we start flying to these destinations in the middle of the night? I'm not sure what I said but I get an answer.

"The Boston Red Sox won the World Series a few hours ago and by the way, you are the Flight Attendant in charge." (I’ve since learned that no team would jinx their chances of winning by booking the plane home before they actual clinch the trophy.)