is it too late for thanksgiving?

December 21, 2011
ramblings, somethin' on the side, the main event
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It seems the holidays have snuck up on me. Wasn’t it just last weekend that I prepared my first Thanksgiving dinner?

The one with herb-mustard butter for the chicken (yes, chicken–there were only three of us!)? With white gravy, green bean casserole, and scallion mashed potatoes? Wasn’t it just last weekend I made homemade cornbread for sausage stuffing? And wasn’t it all washed down with pumpkin custard?

Am I showing off? A bit. Believe me, it didn’t all go as smoothly as I’m making it seem. But in the end, after all the profanities, I managed to produce a Thanksgiving dinner that I was proud to share.

And I can’t believe it’s already over.

blueberry compote

December 19, 2011
sweet thang, the main event
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Yesterday was dedicated to making sweets. And watching football and drinking beer. But mainly making sweets.

Breakfast was simple yet elegant–crepes with blueberry compote. I handed this dainty breakfast to my six-foot, bearded, mid-western S.S., who gobbled it down in mere seconds. I tried to be a bit more refined about it but failed miserably, and the whole thing was gone in less than two minutes.

I used this recipe for the crepes. The compote was easy to prepare and took no time at all: in a small saucepan over low heat, combine blueberries (I used frozen, but fresh is preferred when in season), sugar, the zest and juice of a lemon, and a small pinch of salt. Cook until the blueberries just begin to break down.

Spoon the warm compote generously over crepes (or waffles or pancakes or, hell, even ice cream).

fat pig

December 14, 2011
eat here
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Fette Sau. It’s the type of place I dream about. Images of meat adorn the walls; beer tap handles are replaced with kitchen utensils that are better suited as props in a horror movie; meat is served on sheet pans; draught beer can be purchased by the gallon. Do I really need to say more?

I guess I could go on about how salty, smoky, tender, blah, blah, blah the meat was. I could rave about the beer selection. I could also get down to the excruciating details, like that there are no napkins but rather rolls of paper towels to catch the juice running down your chin. But I’m even starting to bore myself.

The bottom line is this: Fette Sau (did I forget to mention that it is German for ‘fat pig’?) is worth the trip out to hipsterville in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. And it’s worth the long wait (though, since there are separate food and booze lines, I recommend sending a friend to grab some drinks to pass the time). Well worth it.