Molly Stevens, mon petit chou

I am not alone in saying that Molly Stevens' book "All About Braising" is one of the best cookbooks produced in the last decade. It's a teaching compendium, true, but she is a also very kind cooking teacher and cheerleads the reader usefully through recipes. The very nature of one-pot cooking means that nothing is very complicated or requires too too many ingredients.

This morning I woke up and was determined to make use of the head-sized green cabbage I bought at the green market on Sunday. I've been wanting to make kimchi, but realized it requires Napa cabbage not the hard, green variety. I flipped open Stevens' book to the index: Cabbage, world's best, page 57. I have to say I was almost miffed at how simple it would be –– the hardest ingredient being patience. And that is my worst attribute. I am a stove-top, whiz-bang wok queen all the way. All I needed was a braising dish (finally a use for the 20-pound Le Creuset wedding present), salt, pepper, hot chilies, water, olive oil, carrots, onions et mon chou. Chop chop, grind grind, in it all went. Covered and braising at 325 for the next two hours.

I don't know what I was expecting as the apartment filled up with a homey, sweet smell. At the hour mark I turned the cabbage wedges over. At hour 2, I took the lid off, cranked the heat and sprinkled a few shakes of balsamic over the top. What emerged at the end of my wait was — is — a vote-winner for world's best. There is very little oil and the sweetness of the vegetables, so soft you can eat with a spoon, is practically dessert-like. I am very impressed with this recipe and recommend it. As I am too lazy to type out the recipe, you can find it here.

Granola 101

Much like people, every granola smells and tastes a little bit different. Why else would the cereal aisle be spilling over with boxes of uniqueness? Dorset Cereals makes a fine (but slightly pricey) box of the stuff, but when you have developed a serious habit as I have, it's time to bake your own.

As usual, I turned to Google this morning to find a recipe. I took another search through Slashfood and came up with some inspiration. And this blog has a good stand-by recipe. Ultimately, I went off script and opted for a mish mash of my own device.

Fortunately, it’s hard to botch granola. Here are the guidelines: I use about 2 ½ cups of oats, tossed in cinnamon and salt, and then coated with a goo made from honey, vegetable oil, brown sugar (roughly a ¼ cup on each) with splash of vanilla or orange extract. Bake at 350 degrees for 10 minutes, turn, bake 10 more minutes and then mix in your favorite dried fruits and nuts. Today's add-ins included pecans, pepitas, cranberries, raisins and coconut. The taste: sweet and salty, perfect on plain yogurt. -CN

Spot Dessert Bar

I am all for the expanding Asia-fication of Saint Mark's Place. The ongoing boom in noodle bars, sushi dives and the refurb of Panya (near St. Mark's Bookstore) into a full-fledged minimart is a good thing. Consider the other alternatives for late-night beer-induced grazing: falafel and gyro joints? more mediocre doughy pizza? I'll take make-your-own-cotton-candy and soba noodles at Kenka any night.

Chef Pichet Ong opened Spot Dessert Bar on the heels of shuttering P*ng earlier this year (see Belly Up review) and he adds to the swelling tide of alt foodie Asian eateries in the neighborhood. Located in a subterranean slot on the St. Mark's strip, Spot is all things darling: soft lighting, under age-friendly non-alcoholic beverages and a long bar of treats, bolstered by a tempting "look book" of past, present and future sweets near the cash register.

Knowing full well that that diners will come in groups prepared to share, Ong has organized the menu so that each dessert can be ordered tapas-like. An order of four desserts is $26, while single orders are $7 each. While the whole thing capitalizes on the cute appeal of dessert, it does so without overstepping into the weird cupcake fetishization that inexplicably continues (cupcake photo above excepted.)

Our cheerful waitress was eager to share her favorites (Yuzu Eskimo and Five Spiced Fennel Cake) as we compiled a hearty order. While the setting was distinctly 16-year-old-on-a-first-date, the desserts are anything but and can stand up to any of the downtown foodie temples. The savory-style desserts, such as the Avocado Parfait and Yellow Corn Crema are adventurous choices, but I personally stuck to my favorite flavor combination of chocolate, strawberries and cream in the Yuzu Eskimo. The sweet shop closes at 1 a.m. and all the baked goods (try the Chinese Walnut cookie) are half-priced in the hour before closing. –CN

Where: 13 St. Marks Place, New York, NY (212) 677-5670

HanGawi

One of the best things about eating and enjoying restaurants is the ability to pass on a great recommendation. And it is also a treasure to receive one and then make good on it. That is how our recent dinner at HanGawi came to be. “For special occasions,” said my co-worker Brett, who gave me the name of this Korean vegetarian “shrine”.

Special occasions indeed. For myself and Anjum (nee BF) it was a Friday night date. For at least three other tables there, a birthday. The wood-beamed, shoes-free temple-ish environment did two things: instantly transport you to another time and place (Zen temple 100 years ago) and create a peaceful calm in us.

After leaving your footware by the door, you are led across tatami-matted floors to low tables. The menu, all vegetarian, has delightful sounding items like Emperor Rolls and Vermicelli Genghis Khan. There are a number of treasures to be found: fresh plum juice, ginseng salad, crispy sweet and sour mushrooms (a real crowd-pleaser), and many different kinds of pancakes (leek, pumpkin, kimchee). The seasonal specialty was a Korean mountain root called todok. Like a more tender, much milder ginseng root, the meaty root was sliced and then grilled in soy ginger sauce and was quite tasty. It has, according to their menu, many medicinal properties that are appropriately vague such as strengthening blood, increasing energy, etc.

For dessert I ordered the ginger tea, which was strong and served with pinenuts, and blueberry coconut cake. Anjum went for toasted almond tofu ice cream (why dairy when you can tofu!) and the Royal Green Tea from Mt. Jilee. The grassy, mountainous brew is for only the most hardcore of green tea drinkers.

The whole experience was warm and delightful; we felt satisfied both in mind and body after this dining experience. What stood out as well was how well I slept that night and how good I felt the next morning. The post-dining glow instilled faith in me that all that ginseng and todok really do have medicinal properties, and those vague promises of 'health' hold some weight.

Where: 12 E32nd Street, between Fifth and Madison; 212-213-0077

Sokhna

Today's installment is filled on with many dos and one don't. It has has transportation instructions.

Getting there

This is the summer of 'The Bike'. I have been venturing out weekly on big expeditions, grazing along the way. Yesterday the itinerary took us up north along Riverside Drive (did you know there is a very old, very creepy graveyard at 155th and Riverside?) to Ft. Tyron Park (where a Mister Softee awaited). On the return, we crossed the George Washington bridge over to the Ft. Lee Historic Park on the Jersey side where there is a reenactment camp of colonial soldiers. Back in Manhattan, we decided to stop and check out some of the Chimichurri trucks (at least 6) parked along Amsterdam Ave. between 175th and 165th.

The Don't

La Vecina #1 is one of the many chimichurri trucks parked on the avenue. Like the others, it is tagged in graffiti and the menu is scratched out in places, but we could still read the offerings: Cerdo oreja, pata, corazon and every other yucky part of the pig. Also chimichurri torta, made with a wafer thin beef products (looked like a Steak'um to me). We went for one torta ($4), two limon jugos naturales ($2) and two fried beef empanadas ($1 each). Chimichurri - a type of South American sauce used for beef - in this case was Russian dressing with a few squirts of hot sauce. The limon was about four scoops of CountryTime on ice and the beef empanada? Who knows what was really inside. Anjum couldn't finish his, but I soldiered on. In the name of Belly Up.

I should mention, however, that the proprietor, who didn't speak English, was really nice and walked us through the pig parts by pointing to his ears, lips, etc..as I called them out from the menu. We had high expectations; taco trucks in the city are usually pretty decent. But this was a sore disappointment. The Vegas-like lights made these chimichurri trucks seem more enticing than the food really was. We walked a few block out of sight before dumping our too-sweet limon jugos and pedaled onwards. I patted my belly, silently apologizing that I am an 'adventure' eater and will try anything for the sake of a good blog post.

The Do

Redemption was on the horizon. We whipped down St. Nicholas Avenue, where there is a highway of a bike lane. Slowing at 135th, we noticed a large group gathered on the streets and parked on lawn chairs. What was happening? The Teddy Pendergrass Tribute concert! Luck was on our side! We parked it for a few minutes, wandered among the crowd and then slowly headed south again. Riding back through Harlem on a Saturday summer evening is tops, people were street-partying, street ball was being played, music blasting.

A strip of Senegalese restaurants on 116th street awaited. We chose Sokhna, for no other reason than it looked welcoming. The food gods were helping us redeem the chimichurri experience. Sokhna is a family restaurant, bustling with take out business, and has a television pumping out African hip hop at the back. We ordered the chicken brouchette platter ($9), a fresh, house-made bissap juice and ginger juice ($2 each). The platter can easily feed two people and the chicken was excellently tender and well-marinated. The accompanying mountain of cous cous, flecked with raisins and pinenuts, was topped with stewed onions and olives. A pile of spicy, pickled onions accompanied the brouchettes. We mopped up the salty jous with fresh white rolls. The juice was amazingly good - I was so sorry I didn't buy several to bring home. We also ordered a baobab juice. This is a specialty African fruit, when made into a juice is a thick, sweet milkshakey thing. I preferred the strong ginger juice. The grand total was $18 for the feast, without a doubt one of the best food deals I have encountered in the city.

Where: Sokhna, 225 West 116th Street, 212-864-0081

King Sauna

King Sauna Lounge.

What brings to mind a well-deserved pig out like hanging out naked with dozens of strangers? King Sauna, the reigning monarch of bimbibop and jimjibang, sure does.

I decided to make the most of a recent summer afternoon and treat myself to some TLC. Cheap TLC. I contemplated a Chinatown $1/minute massage followed by dim sum. But I hankered for something more adventerous.

It was then that King Sauna entered my radar. It is a massive Korean sauna/wet spa emporium in Palisades Park, NJ, where you can get scrubbed raw and slapped around by a couple of tough Korean ladies for a feeling like no other. TLC, the hard-core version.

The Koreans love saunas. And King Sauna aims to out-Korean all of them. To get there I took a 20-minute bus from Port Authority ($8.10 round trip). It is $35 for a day pass and they assigned me a locker, a towel, pink shorts and matching tee-shirt. After I stripped down and stopped feeling self-conscious (sort of), a spa attendant instructed to bathe on a little stool and then jump into one of the many tubs (hot, warm, cold). After I was soaked, I went for the body scrub or wet massage ($70 for both plus tip). A row of tables at the back of the 'wet' spa is where the real experience happens. The spa workers, wearing black lingerie as a uniform (not the sexy kind) use scrub mits to exfoliate you everywhere (yes, *everywhere* and big yucky rolls of old skin will literally fall off your body - gross huh) and then, through an almost-hostile massage, reinvigorate your circulation and muscles. It's bit like being reborn.

After an hour of abuse, they released me back to soak in the steam room or move on into the many sauna rooms. There is one room, the Mugwort room, which is quite possibly the most masochistic experience on earth. My lips started sweating and I felt I might die after about 60 seconds. I donned my pink outfit and moved into the more tolerable co-ed sauna rooms (a men's wet spa is seperate).

By this time, I had worked up some major hunger for a bowl of bimbibop. The lounge/restaurant offer some pink 'royal' seating arrangements where you can dine with other pink-tee-shirt clad spa goers. A bimbibop will cost you $8, and it's advisable to wash it down with a jug of water, and finish with a fresh papaya smoothie. After a relaxing meal while watching a Korean soap opera, I took one more spin through a sauna room, showered, and dressed. Three hours after arriving at King Sauna, I was sufficiently TLC'd and glowing like a newborn, all for the princely sum of less than $150.

Truck stop boom

There is a truck for every gourmande in Lower Manhattan these days (15 at last count), from the iconic joe vendors at the Mud Truck on Astor Place to the newly opened Van Leeuwen ice cream truck, which started dishing fancy scoops at Prince and Greene streets this week. Then there is The Dessert Truck, which exploded on to the eater scene last spring with a barrage of media attention.

But the ice-cream truck model has been around for decades, so why the boom now? These are not fresh-off-the-boat operations, people. These are legit businesses with a slew of MBA number crunching. (Pepto truck anyone? I put money on 48th and Park for that one.)

As I licked my tasty, if pricey, Slow Food scoop the other day, I pondered the boom. The Internet has revitalized the old park-and-sell model. Some web sites and blogs - such as Yum Tacos, Los Tacos Trucks and Taco Hunt - are dedicated to tracking and mapping the mobile kitchens (and their turf wars), freeing them from geographic confines.

Another reason, overhead is low. The young and hungry can start a business with elbow grease and truck rental.

And lastly, a food truck offers entreprenurial freedom and lifestyle that brings business back to basic. It is literally where the rubber hits the road. Except instead of schilling lemonade, it's lunch. For the record, the ice cream from Van Leeuwen is very good - much better than Grom - because it remains light, fresh and creamy without going overboard on sweetness and milkfat. I didn't have the scoop 'coma' that so often follows a heart-clogging lick. I recommend splurging the $3.75 on a scoop.