Food

Dates improve chances for smooth labor (w. recipe for RAW chocolate date truffles)

March 19, 2016 by Erica Leave a Comment

This week I read a small study on date fruits, which have been used in the middle east to prepare women for birth since time immemorial. Even Mary supposedly ate dates to get ready for delivery of Jesus. Who knew…

Either way, the Jordan University of Science and Technology gave 69 pregnant women six date fruits a day for the four weeks before birth. 45 women acted controls and did not get the dates. The results?

The women who ate dates had smoother labor. 96% of their births started naturally (compared to 79% of controls), the date-eaters were more dilated when they came to the hospital and the labor was, on average, SEVEN HOURS SHORTER! They had me at “shorter”. In addition, only 29% of date eaters needed additional prostin/oxycotin to complete labor while 47% of the controls did.

Now this is a small study but the numbers are statistically significant and definitely convincing me to give it a shot. After all, I crave more snacks now and the carb rich dates are full of minerals, vitamins and fibre. Might as well go for six dates a day during my count-down.

I’ve tasted organic dried dates (Brand Urtekram, best for adding to muesli), organic fresh dates (Brand Fontana, creamy texture!) and the super sweet king of dates, organic Medjool dates. The last are most expensive but also most delicious. I need to combine dates with something with fat or protein to lower the blood sugar spike – nuts are a good option. I found a fabulous recipe for date-almond truffles on my favorite food blog, Sprouted Kitchen. You find it, slightly adapted, below.

Dates and nuts chocolate truffles

20 Medjool dates (ca 400 g), pitted and coarsely chopped
1/2 tsp. pure vanilla powder or extract
1 deciliter creamy nut butter – I used peanut but almond is great
1 deciliter cup unsweetened coconut (can be omitted)
1 deciliter good quality natural cocoa powder (I like Valrhona)
1/2 tsp. salt, I use gray French salt for added minerals
1 tsp. cinnamon
1 dl toasted almonds, well chopped

I placed all ingredients except the toasted almonds in a strong food processer and let it run until there was a nice paste. Rolled small balls (this batch made 30, the batch can be halved) which I pressed into the chopped almonds. Rolling in finely shredded coconut (unsweetened) is also an option. Keeps for a week or more refrigerated, can be frozen.

An excellent, albeit caloric, snack or candy for kids and adults. Tastes positively delicious. As the Medjool dates are so large, I’ve counted each truffle as one date for my “six-a-day”.

The best East Village Ice Cream shops

February 19, 2016 by Erica Leave a Comment

I’m a serious ice-cream critic. I love a good, creamy ice cream with depth of flavor, clean ingredients and “something extra”. I think it’s a waste of calories if it’s icy, leaves a coating or has fake flavors (hello Ben&Jerrys, when did your recipes change so much?!? Better in Europe but even worth being called premium in the US, along with Häagen-Daz).

If you are looking for a good café suggestion, check out Cafés in Manhattan. If you are all about the frozen fantasies of Ice Cream, here are three spots worth a visit.

Best Ice Cream Sandwich:

The Macaron Parlour location on 111 St Marks Place is a must-do if you like macaroons AND ice cream. They have an ice cream sandwich they call Care Bear. A multi-colored giant macaron filled with sea salt caramel ice cream. They have lots of other baked goods and coffee as well but I never get anything else. It’s deliciously chewy and runs all over your hands in rainbow colors… What’s not to love?

Best funky ice-cream:

The tiny Odd Fellows Ice Cream Co. Sandwich Shop on 4th street really does make odd ice cream. Excellent, creamy French ice-cream with flavors such as “Thai”, “Beet, Pistachio, Chocolate”, “Black Chocolate Stout”, or “Black Pepper Fig”. They sell by the cup, pint or make sandwiches with delicious home-baked cookies. Flavors to startle your taste buds but a really fun place to stop by. Limited seating.

Best classic ice-cream:

In spite of the weather channel announcing a day of “-12 c, feels like -25c” we went for ice cream and hot chocolate at Van Leeuwen Artisan Ice Cream on 7th street. The hot chocolate was boring but the ice cream is definitely home made, creamy and rich. My favorite flavor was Honeycomb while my sister liked the Sea Salt Caramel.

Not tested: Big Gay Ice Cream on 7th st between 1st Avenue and Avenue A. Famous for soft-serve ice cream with unconventional toppings and a lot of attitude. Definitely a stop on my next visit…

Love is a shared drop of wine

June 12, 2012 by Erica 4 Comments

At the very end of an interview today for a non-wine magazine, the guy I was interviewing mentioned being a foodie. On my way back from the meeting I got to thinking.

Rosemary and I bonded over champagne and have been meeting all over the world to share it since. Here we are at at Grain d'Argent in Epernay

Why is it that the love for food and wine creates something of an instant connection between people who share it?

Though I had a good network in my earlier field of Biotechnology, I never felt the kind of kinship there that I do in the food and wine world. Not just within the trade, but with anyone who shares the passion for food and wine. It’s an instant source of conversation. This connection disregards educational background, age, income or career, which is perhaps the true beauty of it.

Jean Paul Brun of Terres Dorees does love the wine he makes and shares.

I’m not talking about passion for food in a gluttonous sense, but as an interest in discovering new flavors, combined with curiosity for the origins of these experiences. Jean Paul Brun, the excellent Beaujolais producer of Domaines des Terres Dorées, called this desire to know and understand what we are eating an “intellectual need to return to our roots in a stressful world”.

Maybe the presentation of the source of every single ingredient in a luxurious meal has gone overboard – it occasionally feels silly when restaurants more or less give you the name of the cow where the milk for the cheese came from.

I know the name of this cow. Adam Dahlberg, Sweden's representative for Bocuse d'Or, told me her name. She was delicious.

Nevertheless, being presented with a dish where every single component has been chosen with care and afterthought is quite a blessing. Knowing how much loving attention went in to creating the dish or drink I’m about to ingest creates a bridge between me and the chef, between me and the wine producer, and ultimately between me and nature, between me and the soil.

Adam Bjuhr at Gastrologik lovingly preparing a pine-sap sorbet.

Food and wine is our sustenance and a part of our history, our origins, our biology and our pleasure. Sharing the experience with others creates a bond between me and others who share and appreciate it.

Cissi and I met through Biotech but bonded over Barolo. Here we are trying our hand at moose sausage. Doubt we talk about Biotech more than once in a blue moon. Wine, however...

In my house(s, plural – we moved a lot) growing up, cooking was always part of what created a home. We were allowed – even encouraged – to help dad (or mom) from an early age or play around at will. We grew our own carrots, held our own sheep, got moose meat from the hunting neighbour. My whole life, the shared enjoyment of good, well made food has made me feel kinship.

I cook when I’m frustrated or sad, when I’m happy, and especially when I’m in love or want to show my friends I care about them. If someone appreciates my food or wine, it’s like having that care or love returned. Maybe that’s why this job feels less like a “job” per se and more like coming home, and people feel less like new work contacts and more like family or friends. And seriously – creating a career from a home full of family and friends: what better way can you imagine to make a living?

Finger lickin’ ribs – only a NYC cab ride away.

February 1, 2012 by Erica Leave a Comment

Erica eating fat-dripping ribs. While wearing pearls. Classy.

Sometimes I wish I lived in the foodie heaven of NYC. My waistline, however, reminds me I never should.

On this stop-over (back from Utah skiing on our way to Sweden), we had decided on dinner at the nearby Williamsburg Fatty ‘cue for their “meat hipster” attractiveness (just learned that word – must be the backlash to “hipster vegan”). On arrival we found the place closed for renovations. #Fail. While considering our options, Steve, Chef de Cuisine (and Pitmaster!) at the Williamsburg branch emerged from the BBQ wafts of the alleyway. By the time he had told us all about their local chops, home smoked at the back of the house or cooked for hours, with herbs and spices grown on a nearby Brooklyn rooftop, we were salivating. Sensing our disappointment at the closed restaurant, Steve, a sweetheart and true PR genius called us a car and footed the bill for the trip over to the West Village location. He didn’t know he was talking to a journalist either – that’s service!

At Fatty ‘cue on Carmine St, the staff was relaxed, hip, in a genuinely good mood and happy to welcome us. One of our friends, who is an architect, was impressed by the interior design which he said “reflected the asian/southern BBQ cross-kitchen”.

Chocolate desserts at Fatty 'cue. Sorry about bad pics this time - my dear photographer sister had only an iPhone at hand!

Our appetite was wetted with a shot of bourbon and a home-made pickleback. (For those of you, like me, who are not too familiar with picklebacks, it’s a chaser made from pickle juice. This one was house-made, with briney flavors perfectly balanced by the fresh flavors of ginger, citrus, pepper and rice vinegar.) After a couple of starters – a mild cheese and chillies platter and an ok chicken-aubergine salad, we went for the kill: juicy, fat-dripping, finger-lickin’ Heritage Pork Ribs. Cajsa was dipping her ribs in the delicious juices and gnawing the bones. It was THAT good!

I never caught the name of our waitress (an angel!), but had a nice chat with the manager, Scott, who fit right in to the place with his scruffy beard and relaxed t-shirt. He told us about their views on buying as sustainable ingredients as they can, specifically focusing on local meats from small producers. While talking, I nearly missed the scrumptious ice-cream sundae served in a mason jar. Someone else at the table had found a spoon, and it was going fast…

For being a quick night out on our last day on this trip, it sure turned out to be a nice one. Though I must admit, as my head is hitting the pillow, that my fingers smell quite distinctively of smokey, fish-sauce-tinged fatty goodness. Reminding me I need to go back on that diet come morning.

Comfort from a spicy pear and almond tarte

January 12, 2012 by Erica Leave a Comment

Ok, this is not strictly a wine post. To be honest, it’s not a wine post at all. My parents’ dear friend who is a travel journalist is in Utah to write on skiing in the area. Unfortunately, this year, the “Greatest Snow on Earth” is inexplicably missing. The resorts are taking a hit since, simply put, the skiing this year sucks.

Sunrise on the unusually snow-free Timpanogos mountain near Park City in Utah, USA. View from my bedroom.

So after two days of what must have been grueling attempts at trying the few pistes that are open, he instead opted for a visit with my parents who live a short ways from the slopes. I had raided the local Whole Foods, which is one of my favorite grocery stores, so luckily there were things at home to play with. A free-range organic chicken got rubbed down with garlic, olive oil and rosemary, and stuffed with lemon. While it roasted in the oven at low temperature with an assortment of fresh veggies and beans, I tried to figure out a good desert.

I remembered a beautiful recipe from Roost on a chai-spiced almond pear tart and decided to make my own version. The result was delicious. At the request of said journalist, I have written it down (or, as close to what I did as I can remember), and might as well publish it to share with the rest of you as well. Definitely warm, inviting and decadent.

6 individual Spicy Pear Tartes

4 anjou (or other) pears, peeled
Place in pot with 1 l water, 2 dl dark sugar, 1 tsp cinnamon, 1/2 tsp ginger, dash ground cloves
Simmer until pears are soft, approximately 30 minutes. Remove pears. Add 1 dl of sugar and boil until reduced to a caramel sauce.

Crust:
2 dl almond flour
1 dl muscovado (or dark) sugar
2 dl flour
pinch salt flakes
Cinnamon, dry ginger and dash of cloves (to taste)
ca 100 g (one stick) melted butter
2 tbsp water

Mix dry ingredients, mix in liquids until paste forms. Make into pies, and bake in oven at 200 C for 15 min until golden edged.

Custard:

1 dl brown sugar
1 tbsp flour
1 tbsp cornstarch
dash salt
3 dl whole milk
2 slightly beaten egg yolks
1 dl creme fraiche or sour cream

In saucepan over medium heat combine sugar, flour, cornstarch, and salt. Gradually stir in milk so no lumps form. Cook and whisk until mixture thickens and boils; cook and stir 2 to 3 minutes longer. Stir a little hot mixture into egg yolks; return to hot mixture. Cook and stir until mixture just boils. Cool. Fold in creme fraiche.

Fill the still-warm crusts with the custard, layer slices of the soft pears on top, and top up with a bit of the syrupy reduction from the boiled pears. Serve immediately. The tarte should be luke-warm, sweet and comforting. Sorry I forgot to take a picture, but they were so good we finished them in seconds.

For a moment there, I didn’t even mind the lack of snow.

Finding Terroir in NYC

January 9, 2012 by Erica Leave a Comment

Is there anything better for a wine-nerd passionate about wine (no, seriously, those two are not necessarily traits that go together) to meet another person equally excited about a good drop?

The cozy Terroir wine bar. Note me behind window pane. Photo by Cajsa Landin.

Hardly. So when I went to the little wine bar Terroir, next to the “mothership” restaurant Hearth, I was first ecstatic about the wine list, but then progressed to sheer happiness because of the sommelier Kelsey. She must have sensed a fellow wine lover, because she wanted us, me and Cajsa, to discover all her favorites on the open wine list. We went from oloroso sherry to eastern Europe (a lovely, oily Hungarian dry Furmint, and a sharply acidic, light and spicy blaufränkish relative by J&J Eger), past the deliciously nutty, grapefruity champagne Marie Hanze by Maillart. Her description of the first whiff of the champagne was “fresh rain”, which I can’t help but find a beautiful way of saying it.

The last bites of the octupus salad with roasted chick-peas, lemon and cellery

By this time, we needed food, so a small, fresh squid salad with lemon and celery came in. The Scholium Project makes a Gewürtztraminer at 16% alcohol called Riquewihr, which was the only Californian white among the open wines. Guess the owner, Paul Grieco, is more of an old-world person and only takes in US wines if they stand out. The wine had an interesting, complex nose reminiscent of oily, floral yeast (it’s been in beer barrels, so no wonder). Not a favorite because of the striking alcohol, but interesting.

We continued with a late harvest Sauvignon Blanc from Echeveria in the Curico valley, Chile, with a lingering flavor of sweet saffron rolls. A highlight was the Später-Velt Piesporter Goldtöpfchen Riesling Spätlese called simply “Jupp”. Beautifully balanced and elegant with long length and good acid. After sniffing the glass, Kelsey had a blissful look to her and burst out “I have the best job in the world.” You and me both, girl.

With hot and crisp fried risotto balls we had a floral, slightly oxidized and nutty chardonnay from Jura. I find the Jura underappreciated, but then again, I like the old apple-and-nuts you get from their flor-friendly production methods.This one, an ’07 En Barberon by Stephen Tissot was lovely and fresh. Better than the other Jura and Jurancon bottles we tasted. After talking, tasting, and oogling the wine list (all me, Cajsa was more into taking pictures), we ended the visit with the Pewsey Vale ’05 The Countours Riesling from Australia’s Eden Valley near Barossa where we were this time last year. I loved the petroleum nose, but on the palate the fresh fruit dominated.

Terroir NY wine bar sommelier Kelsey describing one of their delicious drops.

Right before we left, the sweet chef Kirsten came out with another set of risotto balls – this time attractively red from beets, with a creamy center of gorgonzola. To die for. The place was packed, and our seats were filled the second our butts left the comfy bar stools. We left happy and inspired, and not at all as buzzed as you might think, since the place fortunately serves tasting-size pours of all the open wines. Next time we are hitting the reds. And then maybe the beers… Terroir indeed, this wine bar has a sense of… well… place.

TerroirNY, main location 413 E 12th st (between 1st Ave and Avenue A) on twitter as @terroirNY

Heavenly pancake in industrial Brooklyn

January 8, 2012 by Erica Leave a Comment

Being the food and wine nerd that I am, coming to New York is a joy. Sure, the shopping is good, the skyline is magnificent and the vibe is special.

Erica on bench in front of Vinegar Hill House restaurant in the Dumbo part of Brooklyn, NYC

Nevertheless, for me, the greatest attraction in the city is its many restaurants and bars – some of which are the best in the world, many of which knock the pants off the selection in the remaining continental United States (not too hard, admittedly, but still). The ethnic food attracts me, like the Brazilian restaurant Casa on Bleecker Street, the little Cuban joints scattered around town or the many dumpling places in Chinatown.

However, I know I spend a lot of my meals in those shabby-chic little bars and restaurants that are made to look like they are tattered and worn though they just barely opened. That special NYC-style. Excellent interior design, slightly industrial, and with delicious food served to hipsters and foodies (my lord I’m getting sick of those words). Yesterday’s nicest meal was definitely the brunch at one such place – Vinegar Hill House in Brooklyn. We took a long walk, through boring industrial areas and abandoned houses in an early January weather that had gotten confused and thought it was April.

The height of my breakfast was the perfect pancake - crisp edges, soft middle, pear inside and walnut bourbon syrup.

When we arrived, my sister, a friend doing his last day at the UN, my newly wedded cousin, her equally newly wedded husband and I, the place had not yet opened. We happily lounged on a worn wooden bench in the sun, watching birds who were equally happy at the spring warmth. I was glad to arrive early though, both because it gave us a chance to see the staff prepping for the onslaught of 30-somethings who had made the trek out here, and because it got us a table.

The place, which was strongly recommended to me by one of my favorite wine writers – Alice Feiring – has a lovely, cozy atmosphere, friendly staff and an excellent wine list. However, this time around there was no wine for me as we were coming for the brunch. And what a brunch. One of the downsides of working with wine and food is that I’m not easily impressed.

Vinegar Hill House bar and bartender.

I was impressed.

The sourdough pear pancake with a bourbon walnut syrup is easily the best American pancake I have had in my life. The sourdough made it tangy and crisp, and the bourbon-laced syrup went perfect with the warm pear. Yum. The side potatoes were also to die for – I don’t know how they made them so perfectly creamy.

Portions (save the pancake) were on the small side, but prices are reasonable. Perfect reuben sandwiches, lovely quiches, and simple but good egg scrambles went with 200-or-so cups of French-press coffee (refills, luckily, are free). After licking our plates clean, the group was at immediate risk for food-induced coma. So we left yet another new New York favorite to saunter across the Brooklyn bridge in the sun, with the replacement for the Twin Towers gaining height in our view. Walking, walking, walking, with the express goal to work up a new appetite. Because though there are more lovely restaurants in NYC than I could EVER fit into a visit, I’m sure going to try.

Game meat and red wine

October 5, 2011 by Erica 12 Comments

Today I took a trip over to a nearby island to buy meat from my favorite delicatessen store, Millesgården Lanthandel. They do their own hunting, and I was jonesing for something to inspire me in the kitchen. I have so much delicious Barolo and Chateauneuf-du-Pape wines in the cupboard from previous trips that need an excuse for drinking. Game meat is a given combination, since the strong flavors in game give the full-bodied, richly flavored wines a run for their money, but also because the extensive tannins in the wine get softened by the protein in the meat.

I’m attracted to wild game meat because it is as organic as it gets – the animal roams freely in the forest, eating what it wants from the vast Scandinavian forest, until the day it walks in the path of the hunter (who is hopefully a good shot). And I’m attracted to shopping from passionate foodies who care about the quality of their products as much as I do, which makes the drive to the island of Lidingö worth it. At Millesgården Lanthandel they have their own room for hanging the meat, and the extra hanging time they provide makes the meat extremely tender.

In my gourmet box today I got a leg of hare, mince from fallow deer (oh, the burgers I will make) and a very tender piece from the hind, nice fatty organic beef sirloin, some home-made sauces, a triple-cream cheese, olives, delicious tomato marmelade and Italian artichoke pesto. In the background you see a magnum bottle of La Spinetta Ca’ Di Pian Barbera d’Asti that I have standing in the office for a rainy day.

Now, tips for recipes or recommendations on your favorite wines for game are of course highly appreciated!

Eating Alone – a Guide

August 9, 2011 by Erica Leave a Comment

Eating alone in a restaurant is almost an art form. Sometimes I can even prefer eating alone, because it gives me the chance to focus fully on the food and wine, and nobody gets offended if I ignore them to get into long discussions with the sommelier (hint to sissy). Other times it is torture.

They key for the restaurant is to make me as a single eater feel both part of the dining room, and at the same time sheltered. The no-nos are to place the single diner smack in the middle or at the door where I just feel like I am not part of the warm cozy restaurant feel. For me, perfect placement is with my back to a wall, somewhere decently central. I can watch the room, but don’t feel like I’m on a stage being observed.

Then there is the amusement. If I have a book, I never feel alone in a restaurant.

As for the wine, I love a nice by-the-glass wine list. Don’t want to polish of a bottle by my lonesome – not only would it look bad, I’d be drunk. Even better is a sommelier who will open almost any bottle on their list for me, like they did at the hotel restaurant at the Albergo dell’ Agenzia Slow Food yesterday. I had three different wines, of which one was a gorgeous 2004 Barolo from A&GN Frantino (see tasting note), and payed very very decent glass prices. That is service!

Lastly, the most important is that little touch of extra attention. If something is neglected, like the bread, or taking away my plate, I end up feeling somewhat forgotten, even I would never feel that way if I was dining in company. If instead I get an extra smile, and maybe a short chat with the waiter or sommelier, it makes me feel like a welcomed diner, and I leave happy. Of course, if instead, I end up with long conversations with the staff, who get animate about what I need to drink or taste, sharing suggested bottles with neighboring tables, that is a place I will always remember with joy. Those days (yes, they do happen to me now and then), I am reminded what a lubricant food and wine are for human interaction, and I am energized for days.

The Market in Alba

August 6, 2011 by Erica Leave a Comment

I started the day by putting on my flirtiest dress and going to the bakery to convince the baker at Da Ale Panetteria to make me the same delicious salty crackers that they serve with their wine tasting flights at the Banca de Vino. I was expecting an old fat man for some reason, and was pleasantly surprised to meet a cute young baker with the bluest eyes. Mission complete, he is baking them for me on Tuesday.

One of my favorite activities by far when traveling is going to local markets, and Saturday is market day in Alba. It always gets to me that I can’t buy all the veggies and fresh fish and tender meats and go home and spend the rest of the weekend in the kitchen. I mean, fresh quail at 8 € per kg? The most beautiful, aromatic Roma tomatoes at 1€ per kg? I would go nuts if I lived here. But alas, until then I will have to make do with buying the things I can transport. Which at this market turned out to be a kilo jar of local acacia honey and a kilo of freshly toasted piemontese hazelnuts (the region is famous for them – Nutella comes from here!).

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