Rose Tinted Glasses
Prisoner of hope. I’ve used that term here before a handful of times. Where it first comes from escapes me, but I came to it from my Hungarian rabbi in Berkeley who had more gravitas in his little finger than the entire New York State Legislature combined.
I say this because I am optimistic about the future of food in our area.
Without a doubt, the food here today is much better than when I first came here four years ago. And I understand that this has been part of an ongoing trend. Still, I would trade our twelve best sushi restaurants for one mediocre Ethiopian restaurant. But that’s another campaign.
Today, I want to finally address B’s thoughtful and lengthy comment of two weeks ago. His comment was in response to how I thought the Times Union poll would actually make a difference and improve food in the region. The last time I tried to address just one part of it didn’t quite get the response I had intended. So to prevent any further backlash, I’ll do my best to take it slow and answer fully and completely.
Ok. Here it goes.
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What Passes for Gourmet
My expectations are not impossibly high, but I’ll admit they are higher than most.
Still, I try my best to keep those expectations proportionate with the kind of business I’m evaluating. A clam shack on the beach doesn’t have to pass the same standards as a white tablecloth restaurant.
For today, let’s focus on food purveyors, since that is the impetus for this post. The owner of a local gourmet market stumbled upon some critical things I wrote about her store, and wrote me a note conveying that she is open to suggestions. So I’m taking this opportunity to explain what I think fine gourmet food is and what it isn’t.
And I’m going to be as gentle as possible.
Ask the Profussor – Wrapping Up Year Two
Hey dad, speaking of wrapping. The FUSSYlittleBLOG is wrapping up its second year. On May 1, the blog officially turns three. With another FUSSYlittleBALLOT season behind us, it’s time to turn our attention to a few of those issues that got lost in the shuffle.
Most notably, there were a bunch of questions over the past couple of weeks that never got answered. Today, I’ll try my best to get to them all. Except of course for B’s, which I haven’t forgotten about, and am still planning to answer in due time.
Spring is here, and it’s time to start anew. Hope you all continue to stick with me and see what becomes of this little project of mine. It’s been a thrilling ride so far. But there will be more time for reflection on the birthday itself. Now it’s time to get to some answers.
Good Cheese Gets a Bad Wrap
Lots of people say they love cheese. But there are different levels of love. To help contextualize what I mean when I say love, I wrote a nine-part story of how cheese came into my life.
Here is the table of contents. Granted, it’s a little intense.
Now when you live in Albany, and people learn that you love cheese, the refrain is unanimous, “Well, you must love the cheese counter at the Honest Weight Food Co-op.” It’s considered by many to be the jewel in the culinary crown of the Capital District and is helmed by the beloved and storied Gustav Ericson.
I do buy occasionally buy things from the cheese counter at the co-op. And I’m glad it’s there, because they do carry things that I cannot get anywhere else. Most notably they have Pamplie, which remains the greatest butter I have ever tried.
But I do not love it, and consider this to be only a cheese counter of last resort.
Meat Sheet Incomplete
Happy Easter. I’m very excited to be actually getting to eat ham later today. The whole family was invited over to the place of a friend who I’m fairly certain will be curing and smoking the thing herself. It promises to be very special, and I’ve already picked out an appropriate wine.
Honestly, I have no idea whether the meat is happy or not. And to be even more honest, right now I don’t really care.
Never do I take for granted the generosity and hospitality of other people. If you want to invite us over and serve macaroni and cheese from a box and spam from a can, you will not see an accounting of it on the Internet.
Writing up everything you eat has its advantages and its drawbacks. But I wanted to let you all know, just in case you did not notice, I have taken down The Meat Sheet from the header of the FLB.
I do feel like an explanation might be in order.
This is The End of Voting
The end has finally come. For some, it has not come soon enough. But for me, I do kind of wish there was more time. However, wishing doesn’t make it so.
Today, Friday April 22, is the last day to vote in the Times Union’s Best of the Capital Region reader’s choice poll.
(It also happens to be the birthday of someone special. Happy birthday, little sister.)
If you haven’t done so, it’s not too late. Especially if you are voting for the FUSSYlittleBALLOT, yours will not just be one more vote cast into the wind. Your vote will be joined together with all of those who have chosen to put aside their own personal favorites so that smaller local businesses can finally have a chance to triumph over the chains.
In some cases there are indeed chains on the ballot. But these are only in the rare instances where chains represent an option that is better than what can currently be found locally. When a better local option arises, you can bet they will get the full support of the FUSSYlittleBALLOT.
But for those who are in a rush, or those who may not want to vote the full slate, here is my simplified list:
Hamapalooza
So much is going on these days. We are in the LAST TWO DAYS of the FUSSYlittleBALLOT, which just happens to coincide with Passover this year. And of course Easter is just around the corner.
In college I once dated a local girl just so I could get invited over to her parent’s for Easter dinner. Honestly, I can’t even remember her name anymore, but we had roast lamb and spinach pie, and it was delicious.
Despite that memorable experience, the dish that pops into my head when I think of Easter is ham.
Given that I don’t typically celebrate the holiday, I’m not sure if today’s thoughts on this great joint of meat are timely enough to have an impact on Sunday’s festivities. Regardless, there are four important things I want to make sure you know. The first two are local, while the remaining two will apply regardless of where you may live.
New Haven is Hell on Passover
I’m on the road again. For those who don’t know that means I’m blogging by the seat of my pants. Normally Mrs. Fussy reads over my posts and makes sure all the commas are in the right place. She also does her best to keep my tone in check so I don’t end up sounding too much like an a-hole.
So today you get me uncensored, for better or for worse.
This time I happen to be waking up in Connecticut, only a few miles from some of the greatest pizza this country has to offer. I’m even hanging out with my foodie cousin who has brought some very tasty treats in from Di Bruno Brothers in Philadelphia.
Except it’s Passover. So while my cousin who apparently is even less observant that me will be enjoying some scrumptious charred coal-fired pizza, I will have to be content with the bread of affliction. This holiday is the worst.
Just for Sue
Sure it’s Passover. But what better time is there to write about pasta. After all, if I can’t eat it, at least I can think about it, dream about it, and live vicariously through those who can enjoy it.
Have you met Sue?
Sue is among the rising number of non-foodies who have found their way to the FUSSYlittleBLOG. And she also joins the list of muses for whom I think about easy and delicious things to cook at home. It just so happens that she’s looking for a recipe.
Honestly, it never would have occurred to me to write up Fettuccine Alfredo (or more precisely fettuccine all’Alfredo, since the dish was named after its creator, Alfredo). There are a couple of reasons for this. One, most people are eating lighter these days. And two, it’s just so damn simple. Although perhaps that’s the perfect reason to write about it. It is decadent, to be sure, but what’s life without a little indulgence? And if you can make something this good at home, it will make you think twice about paying a mint for mediocre food at some overrated restaurant.
Bread, I Still Love You!
I’m as Jewish as f*cking Tevye.
~ Walter Sobchak
Speaking of Tevye, let’s talk about tradition for a moment. I’m a big fan. I love traditions. You know what else I love? Bread.
Last year, on the day before the first night of Passover, I wrote a love note to bread. This seems like a worthy annual tradition for the FLB. Each year I may change it up a little bit around the edges, but at its core, it will be the same piece. I hope you enjoy it. Because these memories of bread are going to have to get me through the long hard week of Pesach.
I have loved bread for a long time.
FUSSYlittleBLOG 