The Well-Fed Bong

Today I ate elk. Yes I know, I should build up to it, write tales about majestic deer and redskin hunters, but basically that's what it was. I ate elk. It wasn't my intention to go elk-hunting. I was quite content at aiming for tasty slices of the domesticated bull and San Diego magazine gave me recommendations about steakhouses in downtown. At the top of the list was Greystone the Steakhouse so I landed up and sat at the bar in front of a fairly bustling dining room filled with suits and little black dresses. Rod the bartender gave me a choice between ribeye and elk, and of course my adventurous instincts took over. Elk sounded like a definite beenthere donethat - evoking eskimo hunts and igloo campfires and extreme survival in bitter conditions - so I jumped. It promised a crust of s and all kinds of other nice stuff. The elk steak turned out to be a mildly flavored meat; tender and juicy but more exotic that gourmet. Seems I was wrong about the eskimos too - this dee...

One of the favorite foods of my childhood was chhanar dalna - a uniquely Bengali way of making paneer (a kind of Indian ricotta, if you must know) with nt tastes of ginger and cinnamon. Making paneer at home (yes, there was a time in the far past when you had no choice) was fairly laborious and longwinded, so this wasn't made all that often - which, of course, made it all the more desireable. When I grew up, gained control of my own kitchen and discovered that paneer now came vacuum sealed at the local grocery - requiring only a credit card and some basic unwrapping technique - I decided to indulge. It was easier said than done, though. I cooked paneer often and made some nice (even great) stuff, but for some strange reason the real chhanar dalna thing continued to elude me. Paneer korma, no problem. Saag paneer, no problem. Paneer bhurji, no problem. Chhanar dalna...somehow it never tasted correct. Edible wasn't the issue here- once you learn the basics almost everything co...

There's plenty of tea in New York too, and you dont even have to climb over hills to get at it. Lets start with the cutest - Alice Tea Cup ; the name smells of baby showers and women sitting around knitting. That, in fact, is exactly what happens. This is the female equivalent of a steakhouse, the food equivalent of a chickflick, the last hideout for women in the age of sexual equality. Well, nearly. It's true that the place is full of cutesy stuff and upper westside women who knit, but it's also a serious tea place with plenty of excellent tea choices. And by tea, I mean the whole tea service thing - perfectly brewed tea in teapots, double filtered water, food, tea scones and some serious clotted cream. Sit down, let out a slow breath and relax while menus of tea choices and sandwiches appear on the rough, solid-looking bench before you. Real tea pots and cups too. Its subterranean location at 73rd Street is nearly impossible to find the place so peace and quiet are assu...