Comfort Foods and Indulgences

I am an A+ eater and a B- cook.  Sad, but true – I’d be so much better off if it were the other way around.  I have a couple of A+ dishes in my repertoire, but by and large, I haven’t had the time to hone my kitchen skills.  Having to bring home the bacon and cook it too is hard work!  So I’ve eaten out as much as I’ve eaten in for the last 20 years.  Nowadays, I’m trying to reverse the trend.

I began my career in Manhattan around the same time that many famous, formal temples of gastronomy like Lutece and La Cote Basque were being replaced in the hearts and wallets of many New Yorkers by small, unpretentious, artisanal restaurants that cared more about the content than the packaging.  So I consider myself very lucky to have been there when Trattoria d’Alfredo changed the rules of the game.  Alfredo Viazzi introduced New Yorkers to simple, inventive, Italian regional cooking, as familiar to us today as spaghetti and meatballs were then.  I loved how this gracious, Savona-born, WWII partisan fighter, writer and cook presided over his flock nightly; I loved that he opened a supper club nearby where his actress/singer wife performed; and I loved the exquisite mocha dacquoise cake made daily for the restaurant by James Beard’s partner, pastry chef Gino Cofacci.

It was a two-line email—the kind that makes you sit up and think—because it addressed an issue faced daily by millions of grill masters around Planet Barbecue:

“Sometimes we buy cheap beef because we are on a budget,” wrote Diane Q. “These steaks are often tough. We have tried salt, meat tenderizer, and marinades. Could you please tell me the best way to tenderize the steaks?”

I immediately thought of my last trip to Southeast Asia, and in particular, to steaks I ate hot off the grill in Siem Reap, Cambodia, and Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. Both were explosively flavorful thanks to complex marinades and polymorphic condiment spreads. And both were tough as proverbial shoe leather.

We North Americans and Europeans are spoiled when it comes to steak. Our notion of a “fork-tender” filet mignon or a “silver butter knife” sirloin (the signature steak at Murray’s in Minneapolis—so named because it’s so tender, the steak knife glides through the meat as though it were butter) are the stuff of dreams on much of Planet Barbecue.

Recently I had a tryst with an old flame. No, ‘old flame’ is not quite right. You see, I’ve mindlessly used him many times over the years--even recently--meeting him most often in dark movie houses. On rare, more daring occasions we met in my bedroom, on nights when I admit I much more anticipated my latest Netflix delivery or guilty-pleasure TV show. He was always a second thought; an accompaniment; a reliable, cheap snack I held back from enjoying fully, lest I spoil the more respectable dinner waiting for me at home.

But this night was different. I was alone. . .insatiable, yet I longed for something more substantial, more fulfilling. . .more memorable. Suddenly, and for the first time, I saw him in a new light. The idea seemed so silly given our past dealings, that I needed some kind of sanity check before making the call. I did what one does when faced with such a crisis. I grabbed my phone, and desperately tweeted:

No one did (talk me out of it), but when shortly thereafter I received an inquisitive tweet from none other than the brilliant Amy Ephron (“What does homemade mean?”, “Did you grow and dry the corn, or do you just mean ‘not microwaved’?”, “Recipe, please?”), I knew I was on to something, and that there was no turning back.

To make amazing buttermilk biscuits, you don't have to make them by hand.  Using a stand mixer is the way to go when changing up a few ingredients that yield tender, flaky biscuits everytime.

This recipe also calls for cake flour which is not the norm for biscuits.  However, cake flour has a lower protein content, allowing the dough to withstand more mixing without overworking it and developing gluten, which will ultimately toughen the biscuits.