Up on the Hudson River - a Tale of Two Cities

Last week Allegra and I got into the car, picked up two tender, milky, freshly made mozzarellas from Russo's on east 11th street, and drove north for a couple of hours.  Our first stop was Hudson, NY, about 110 miles north of the City, on the east-side of the Hudson River. We stopped for a visit with friends, Tony & Maggie, both artists, who live in a huge Greek Revival home on one of Hudson's leafy streets just south of the little city's main thoroughfare, Warren Street. 

I arrived just in time for lunch.  How fortuitous! (Really, I was all set to check out Hudson's tortilla shack)  One of the mozzarellas was immediately sliced and paired with sliced, freshly picked (from their garden) still-warm-from-the-sun tomatoes, and whole basil leaves  to make one of the meal's offerings.   A sour dough baguette from downtown Hudson's Loaf Bakery was what was needed to sop up that delicious mixture of olive oil and tomato juice that comes with a serving of the red, green and white Insalata Caprese (and for this one, a bit of yellow).  Remember this salad gets dressed simply with olive oil and salt.  That's it.
After lunch, Allegra and I took off for a walking tour of the downtown, commericial area of  Hudson with a first stop at Lick, on Warren Street, for ice cream.   I love Lick's ice cream.  I had a coffee, cookie, caramel cone and Allegra had a Betsey's BowWow - which is vanilla ice cream garnished with two homemade dog biscuits.  We were in heaven and ready to walk off our indulgence.  
We enjoyed our walk and had to stop at Swallow Espresso and Coffee Shop on Warren Street, not just for the coffee, but also because it shares a space with Loaf and I wanted to buy a baguette.  We met our friend, Cynthia at Swallow - sat outside and admired the afternoon parade of dogs and their humans.

I was most impressed with a a couple of men, separately, and their poodles.

After a leisurely, window-shopping walk down Warren  Street with Cynthia, Allegra & I went back to our car parked in front of Tony & Maggie's place, said our "Goodbyes" and headed back south a bit to the Rhinecliff  Bridge where we crossed the magnificant Hudson River, to the west-side, and went to visit our friends Mark and James - who call their side of the river, the "Left Bank" - and their dog, Cicero in Kingston - the former captial city of New York.   

They live in a unique mid-century home which they have named Ringtop Ranch.  The neighborhood kids refer to it as the "Jetson's house".   I would say it's more elegant than comical.   The seemingly stark design belies what is a comfortable and almost cozy interior.

Because our hosts arrived from NYC a bit on the late side we didn't cook at home but instead went to a wonderful bistro in Uptown Kingston (as opposed to a whole other area of town down by the river - and a section in between both) called Boitson's.    Boitson's is just the kind of place that you want near where you live.   Inviting and easy, with a food and cocktail menu that has something for everyone - but is big on comfort food.  Like the fried oysters, fried chicken, burgers, mac and cheese that somehow found their way to our table along with cocktails named for various New York City boroughs (owner Maria Philippis managed the legendary Blue Ribbon restaurant before opening her upstate eatery) and upstate locations.  I was happy with a cocktail called The Brooklyn made with bourbon, triple sec, sweet vermouth and fresh lime.  Let's just say I was happy.   Slightly buzzed with good friends and good food - is there anything better?

Saturday morning was all about the Kingston farmer's market.   The various stalls were brimming with the gems of  mid-August, tomatoes, corn, peppers, eggplant, zucchini, herbs, peaches, plums, watermelon and so on.  We bought some of most things to make an unforgettable dinner.

But first we had lunch.  Another version of the marriage-made-in-heaven combo of tomatoes, mozzarella and basil.  With a sour dough baguette from Loaf , the 2nd Russo's mozzarella, tomatoes from the farmer's market and basil from Ringtop Ranch's herb garden I made toasted sandwiches.   We ate outside on the Ranch's upper patio and plotted our afternoon in the kitchen. 

James made watermelon juice - blended  chunks of melon - that's it.  We thought that we could serve it with gin or vodka - or neat, on the rocks - which turned out to be the most popular drink of the evening. Watermelon juice is not only delicious - more delicious than it deserves to be because is so downright beneficial to your body: filled with powerful antioxidants, packed with vitamin A rich in electrolytes (it will rehydrate your thristy self in seconds), and because of the big presence of vitamin C, carotene - it's a gorgeous color.

I made chimichurri - a fresh herb sauce - full recipe on blog dated 12-4-10- to serve with grilled chicken breasts and rib-eye steak.  I added a bit of chopped red onion to the original recipe.

James roasted, simply with olive oil and a bit of salt,  separately, sun gold and chocolate cherry tomatoes, and fresh corn kernels - which were later tossed together with a chiffonade of fresh basil and served as a first course with squid ink spaghetti.  All those bits of caramel created when the tomatoes were roasted added a certain sumptuousness to the pasta that is indescribable.

James grilled sliced eggplant.  I made an ersatz tonnato sauce to serve with it.    Puree a can of good quality, packed in olive oil, tuna with lemon juice and a handful of capers.   Loosen the puree to a spreadable consistency with a nice portion of good quality commercial mayonnaise.    Evenly place the grilled eggplant on a serving platter - cover the top with tonnato sauce.  Garnish with capers.

James set the table with to-die-for, vintage Gucci water glasses.

 Mark fullfilled a longtime ambition and made peach jam.

I made my favorite cake of the summer - one that  I've topped with with peaches, peaches and cherries, peaches and crumbled amaretti cookies - and for Ringtop Ranch - topped with blueberries, Italian plums and slivered almonds.

SUMMER CAKE

Cynthia, of the previously mentioned walk around Hudson, gave me this recipe at the end of last summer.  I started to make it at the beginning of this summer and won't stop 'til the last piece of summer fruit disappears.

1/4 pound unsalted butter, softened
1 cup sugar
2 eggs
1/4 teaspoon pure almond extract
Cream butter and sugar until light and fluffy.  Add eggs one at a time.  Add almond extract.  (I use a hand held mixer to do this)
Sift together:
1 cup all-purpose flour
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon baking powder
Fold into butter/egg mixture.  Do not overmix, batter will toughen.
Spoon dough into buttered and lined 8-9-inch springform pan (I always use a non-stick cake pan).  Add 1 1/2 cups (I use at least 2 cups) apricots, peaches, plums, bluberries, or cherries, etc. just layered on top of the batter.  The fruit will sink while baking.   Sprinkle with cinnamon and sugar - and/or a handful of slivered almonds.
Bake at 350 degrees F. for 45 minutes to an hour - until a toothpick inserted in center comes clean.
Serve warm or cool - plain or with creme fraiche, or....

James roasted some fingerling potatoes with a hint of fresh rosemary.  Then we were set for dinner.    We rinsed ourselves off and changed into clean clothes and went for a cocktail at the home of one of our dinner guests.  Now, this is a well-known house down by the river, perched high on a hill.  Built in 1873 by the brick merchant, John A. Cordts - this Second Empire house with its columned front porch from which there are sweeping views of the Hudson River is owned by an artist who outfitted it in a dazzling way.  After a drink and conversation we ( the 3 of us, the artist and his 2 guests) headed back to Ringtop Ranch - en masse - to enjoy, I mean really enjoy a wonderful dinner, and each others' company.

Bye, bye James & Cicero (and Mark already returned to the City).   Allegra & I had a great time.  See you soon. oxox

SUSANSIMONSAYS:  

Another thing to do with all the fresh tomatoes and basil that are overpopulating farmstand bins - right now.

My go-to pizza dough is made :

Combine a 1 1/4-ounce packet of dry yeast with 1/2 teaspoon sugar and 1 cup warm water.  Let stand until foamy, about 15 minutes.  Combine 3 cups all-purpose flour with 2 teaspoons salt in a large bowl.  add 1/3 cup olive oil to the yeast mixture, then add to the flour.  Mix well.  Turn out onto a floured surface.  Knead until soft and elastic, 3 - 4 minutes.

Swish a few tablespoons of olive oil in a large bowl and place the dough in it.  Turn the dough so it's thoroughly coated in oil.  Cover and place in a warm draft-free environment to rise.  It should double in size in 45 minutes to an hour.  Punch down.  Cut into 4 pieces and retrun to the bowl.  Recover.

Now, after the dough has risen a second time you can make 4 10-inch pizzas - or one and freeze the remaining pieces, individually for future use.  It's so nice to know that you them - they're perfect for a last minute meal or for a cocktail snack.     The featured pizza is topped with fresh, heirloom tomatoes, crumbled feta cheese, and frehly made pesto - which is added AFTER the pizza comes out of the oven.   The pizza is baked at 500 degrees F. for 10-12 minutes - until the cheese is sizzling and the crust is golden.

And then I went to Patagonia

I boarded a plane in bustling, vibrant, slightly humid, blossoming springtime Buenos Aires, flew south for 3 hours, and debarked at the El Calafate airport in the steppes of Patagonia.  The air was clean, crisp, and the stiff breeze practically swept me off my feet.  Even although the white, rick-rack  Andes Mountains seemed close enough to touch – I was only about 200 hundred feet above sea level – so, I could breathe – breathe deep breaths of the gorgeous, not thin air. I was in heaven – no, on the other side of the moon.  I had arrived.   I checked into the cozy, super-luxe

 Los Sauces Casas Patagonica.  First thing, I pulled up the shades on the huge picture window in my bedroom which faced west towards those fabled Andes, but quickly lowered my gaze to focus in on the birds – vandurias - the pair in foreground - munching on the bristly grass, definitely united, forever-in-love - who were became part of my every-day view. They reminded me who this quiet, calm land belonged to. 

The next day Los Sauces’ adorable, and talented young chef, Marcelo Raitelli treated the guests to a roast lamb lunch. He cooked the chimichurri-rubbed (massaged, he would say)lamb asador-style; butterflied, and trussed with metal hooks and wires on a metal cross then cooked in front of an pile of flaming wood. He turned it and basted it with more chimichurri until only he knew it was cooked to perfection.

I asked Marcelo for his recipe for chimchurri – Argentina’s emblematic all-purpose sauce. It’s mostly used on meat – but Marcelo used it as a marinade for the vegetables that he grilled to accompany to lamb.

His response to my request was a list of ingredients. I’ve added approximate measurements. Marcelo’s ingredients are in BOLD.


GARLIC              3 or 4 cloves (or more, if you like)


PARSLEY             1 cup fresh, flat leaves, chopped


RED PEPPER          2 teaspoons red pepper flakes


OREGANO             1 cup fresh leaves, chopped or 1 heaping
                    tablespoon dried leaves


ALCOHOL VINEGAR     3 tablespoons red wine vinegar


OLIVE OIL           ½ cup extra virgin


SALT                1 tablespoon


PEPPER              I assume he means black pepper – I suggest 1
                    tablespoon freshly ground – except that I don’t
                    use it in my sauce

Mix all the ingredients together and let rest for at least a day before using. The sauce can be refrigerated for up to 3 weeks.


The next morning I awoke at the ungodly hour of 6:45 to get ready for the day's activity - a mini-trek across one of Patagonia's famous glaciers. I was met by my guide , blue-eyed, ever-smiling Pablo - Hielo y Aventura. It seemed that Pablo’s sole job was to keep me entertained – and company, while we drove for one and half hours to  reach the entrance to Los Glaciares National Park. Pablo stayed with me while I took the short ferry ride across the stunning, Lago Argentina (the largest lake in the country) to the Glaciar Perito Moreno. I was left in capable hands of about half a dozen almost distractingly, handsome- mountain guides. We split into groups – I with the English-speakers, the rest were Spanish speakers. I was at least twice the age of everyone else – did I worry that I wouldn’t be able to make it? Only for a half a second. We walked for 15 – 20 minutes across the glacial moraine before we reached the base of glacier. With crampons strapped onto our boots, we set out and walked straight up, in the rain. It was exhilarating – exciting and wondrous. Here I was, clamped onto to 15,000 year old ice.

Every now and then our vista of pearl white – by now the rain had turned to snow – was interrupted by startlingly cerulean, border-line turquoise pools, puddles, and indentations in the pleats of the glacier. It was unreal – where was I? I moved, numbed not by the weather, although it was atrocious, but by what I was seeing and experiencing. If I couldn’t make it across a crevasse, there was always a guide nearby to give me that extra push or give me a hand to pull me across. I couldn’t quit – I wouldn’t stop. I knew what lay ahead at the finish line. When we climbed behind a tall spire of ice we noticed a rustic wooden table sunk into the ice. The table held equally rustic wooden trays- one holding glasses the other a basket of alfajores – Argentina’s emblematic cookie made by sandwiching butter cookies between a layer of dulce de leche. One of the guides took a bowl and an ice pick to the side of a glacier and proceeded fill the bowl with 15,000 year old ice chips, return to the table, put the ice into the empty glasses – and then, BIG SMILE – fill the glasses with Scotch! How civilized! How perfect! I stumbled back down the remaining piece of glacier, removed the crampons and walked back across the moraine to the lodge. I ate a lunch of smoked salmon sandwiches prepared by Marcelo, and waited for the ferry that brought me back to Pablo. Further adventures included walking along the paserela – catwalks where we were able to have front row seats to the glaciers. The lower down on the winding catwalks that we walked the closer we got to ice. We were actually  privileged - and I, overwhelmed, to see a glacier calve – big chunks of the ice broke away from the main body in a loud roar. What a day!

Pisco sours - the reward at the end of the day - oh, sometimes the middle too.  Made with the Peruvian spirit, Pisco, a distillation of grapes -2 ounces, the drink gets its kick with the addition of fresh lemon juice - 1 ounce, simple syrup - 1 ounce,  and 1 egg white(to give it its signature foam).  The ingredients are well-shaken with lots of ice then strained into a glass and garnished with a few drops of Angostura bitters. Traditionally, an old-fashion glass is used for the drink - however, the brilliant bartender at Los Sauces, poured his Pisco sours into champagne flutes whose rims had been coated with confectioner's sugar.  We all developed "Pisco noses" from drinking them!

On my last day in El Calafate, Lucho Diaz of 4x4:Miloutdoor took me and another guest for the ride of our lives.  Lucho's fearless way of steering his Land Rover through the estancias - the ranches outside of Calafate - then up the balcones - the plateaus that surround the small town - was take-your-breath-away  exciting, and only slightly scary. On the day of our trip it was mild and muddy as we began our climb and covered with snow we when arrived at the second balcon.  It was as far as we could go.  Even the rugged Land Rover couldn't move further.  At every turn,  and at every stop there were views of the valleys, the plateaus, and the  turquoise lake below that made me blink tears from my eyes - it was just that beautiful.   We were, however able to  make it to Lucho's chuck wagon -made from an old cargo container - where we were treated to some of those famous alfajores cookies and a cup of steamy hot chocolate.

Sadly, I left El Calafate that evening.  I would go back to Patagonia in a heartbeat.  In over four decades of travel I can't remember when I've been so taken with  a place.  It was all about  nature - not necessarily the cuisine - although it was delicious, not necessarily the people, although they were kind, generous, serene and noble - not necessarily the history although there is a rather rogue history attached to that part of Argentina - read, or reread as I did, Bruce Chatwin's "In Patagonia" .  It was the landscape, the tenacious stiff grass that grows in spite of the wind and birds that do their best to keep it buzz-cut - the pleated glaciers surrounded by moss-green moraine and Paul-Newman-blue-eyed lakes (after all Patagonia was where Butch Cassidy spent his final days) the eagles, the condors, the guanacos (little llamas), the hares, the vandurias, the flamingos and so on.

SUSANSIMONSAYS:  a calafate is a kind of berry.  It looks exactly like a wild blueberry and tastes something  like one too.  Be sure to check out El Tranquilo on El Calafate's main drag Avenida del Libertador, number 935, for their exceptionally good calafate jam and liqueur.  Their rose hip, rosa moqueta,  jam is velvety smooth and irresistible.