Back in my youth, such eateries as coffee shops and diners were known as “greasy spoons.” They were all over the place. I recall one at the corner of the elevated subway and Prospect Avenue in the Bronx. And which everyone in the neighborhood called “Los Griegos,” or “The Greeks,” since most diners, at the time, were Greek owned. There was another one on the corner of 110th street and Lexington Avenue, also called the same name by everyone around. Today there aren’t as many as before, although you can still find them in certain areas. Where I live on the East Side there is a local diner that my wife and I frequent, usually on Saturdays, when we do our errands. We have a set routine. We go to a nearby farmer’s market to get our produce, then to the Supermarket for the regular groceries, and so forth. At lunch time we have a bite to eat. I like eating at the dinner. I can get a bagel, or a tuna fish sandwich, or even an egg cream. It’s convenient, filling and cheap. Nothing fancy, just plain down-home edibles.

These days, however, we are also confronted by newer more “in” places, more “nutritionally correct” places. In my neighborhood recently, a new place has opened up that touts “organic burgers,” “organic salads,” and even “organic shakes.” It even boasts “organic wines and beer.” So this time around, my beloved wife suggested we try out the new place; that we eat “healthy” for once, rather than have the same old deal at the greasy spoon. I complied, curious to note how this new upscale place would compare. I’m always game for a new adventure.

Thus we sat in a comfortable booth in this new organic joint. The waiter or server, as they are known these days, a solicitous handsome young man, asked for our order. My wife knew what she wanted, she would try one of their organic bison burgers and a ginger ale. I ordered the usual for my Saturday noon meal, a bagel. “We have no bagels,” the server replied. This to me was weird. A New York eatery without bagels? That’s like a Catholic Church without incense. So I said, “O—kay, what have you got?” The server suggested one of their burgers, like my wife’s bison burger. Perusing down the menu I noticed they had  listed portobello mushrooms.  I decided on that. Then the server replied that they didn’t serve portobello burgers. “O—kay, I’ll have a portobello sandwich,” I said, and added, “on a roll.” We have no rolls,” the server informed. “You have a choice of a brioche or 2-grain bread.” Stumped, I said, “I’ll have the 2-grain bread.”

We had ordered, and we waited for our meal. My wife loved her bison burger. I, however, had a different experience. The minute I took a bite into the portobello sandwich, I couldn’t keep it down. It was the most salty thing I ever tasted. For health reasons, I avoid salt and sugar whenever I can. I seldom will grab the salt shaker at a table. This sandwich tasted like fatback. What looked like the manager of the place noticed my barely eaten sandwich on the table, and came over to ascertain what was wrong. I told him the sandwich was just too salty for my taste. He explained that could be because the portobellos had been.  dipped in balsamic vinegar before cooking. I cook with balsamic vinegar. I’ve never had this taste before. Something definitely was not right. The server came back and asked if I wanted something else. I figured I didn’t want to push my luck too far, so I ordered simplest thing I could think of: two pieces of buttered. “We have no butter,” the server said. “What?” I shook my head. “No butter?” “Yes,” the server elaborated, “we don’t use butter in this establishment.”

I sat there dumbfounded. Finally I just told him to bring me two pieces of 2-grain bread. And this was my lunch: two pieces of bread washed down by water. It called to mind those tales of prisoners on Devil’s Island subsisting on the same meal; or a young Edmund Dantes eating bread and water in his island prison before he became the Count of Monte Cristo. Had I known what was coming I would have ordered the organic wine or beer. At least I could have had a buzz while dining on bread and water.

The whole experience brings to mind an old adage by the writer Nelson Algren: “Never play cards with a man named ‘Doc’ or eat at a place called ‘Mom’s.” That says it all. Sometimes the best recourse is the old greasy spoons where you can get what you want without fuss or bother. I sing their praises every day of my life.

I’m an aficionado of canned tuna fish. Have been all my life. Like most Americans, it’s mainly been in the usual tuna fish sandwiches. You know the deal: 2 slabs of bread and tuna mixed with gobs of mayonnaise. Canned tuna has so many uses. Back in Spanish Harlem, during my salad days, we use to make a quick meal of canned  tuna fish over rice. Simple and delicious. But the sandwiches remained our usual standby. And in our experimenting with tuna sandwiches we came upon our favorite: broiled tuna sandwiches (of which the recipe is given below).

It should be noted that in the U.S. 52% of canned tuna is used for sandwiches. While 22% is for salads, and 15% is for other uses such as casseroles. Canned tuna comes in 2 variations: Chunk Light and White Albacore (also known as “solid white tuna”). Chunk light tuna comes from darker species of tuna and is considered not as good as solid white. The interesting thing is that chunk light contains lower levels of mercury than albacore white and thus it’s healthier for you. According to the American Medical Association, canned tuna contains various levels of mercury. So,  for young children it should be limited to no more than 2 meals a month. Whereas chunk light should be limited to 3 meals a month. All this is off-set by the fact that canned tuna is a good source of Omega-3 fats that help reduce cardiovascular disease.

BROILED TUNA SANDWICHES

2 cans (5-oz) tuna, flaked
1 cup chopped celery (about 2 large ribs)
1/4 cup mayonnaise
1 clove garlic, finely minced
1/4 teaspoon dried oregano
Freshly ground black pepper to taste
4 hamburger rolls, split and toasted (or 8 slices toast)
Grated Parmesan cheese to taste

1. In a bowl mix all the ingredients except the rolls and Parmesan cheese.
2. Spread rolls on a baking pan or cookie sheet, and spread with the tuna mix to cover. Sprinkle with Parmesan.
3. Broil about 6 inches from heat source until bubbly (about 5 minutes).
4. Cover with roll tops. Cut each roll in half and serve.
    Yield: 4 servings.

I know, you’re saying, “Frogs’ legs—what the f . . ..” Yes, kiddies, frog’s legs. That’s the recipe I want you to try. Now, hear me out. I admit, it’s most likely not your usual tidbit, and it’s mostly associated with hoity-toity French cuisine. Yet did you know that frog’s legs is a delicacy of Cantonese cooking, as well as Thai, Vietnamese, Portuguese, Spanish, Greek and Italian cuisine? Not to mention, it’s also popular in the southern regions of the U.S. In Indonesia it’s a national dish in the form of Swikee Kodok Oh, or frog’s legs soup usually served with rice. So, don’t get bummed out. It’s a favorite dish of a lot of people, not just our French brethren. Frog’s legs have a mild, enticing flavor similar to fish. They are also rich in protein, omega-3 fatty acids (the good kind), vitamin A and potassium. Figure it this way: the suckers are good for you.

The historical record shows that frogs’ legs were popular in southern China as early as the first century of the Common Era. The Aztecs also had a yen for them. But, ironically, it was the Catholic Church that made them a staple in France.  Early on, the church had a prohibition on eating meat on a certain number of days during the year, the most common being Friday. Gluttonous monks in France got around this by qualifying the frog as a fish, and not as a meat item. Naturally, since frogs grew wild during that time, hungry peasants got into the act by dutifully following the monk’s (and the Church’s example) and eating the frogs. And a national dish was born. They became so endemic with French cuisine that the favorite insult toward the French is referring to them as the Frogs.  

The dish crossed the Atlantic by way of Louisiana, where the French speaking Cajun folk popularized it in New Orleans. And to this day they still enjoy it either deep-fried, sometimes breaded and sometimes not. Now, don’t get turned-off by it. Check out the recipe. Give it a chance. It might surprise you.  Where can you get frog’ legs? Well, at most large supermarkets these days (most often in the seafood section). Barring that, at specialty food stores, and even on-line. They are usually sold frozen and already cleaned. Most Asian markets carry them, sometimes even fresh. For the more adventurous, you cay buy whole bullfrogs that can be cleaned and skinned at home. If you manage to get these, you can trim off the skin as if you were sliding off a glove from the legs. Then soak the legs in cold water for 2 hours before cooking to mellow out the flavor.

For the recipe given, you can use farmed or wild frog legs. Farmed legs tend to have a lighter hue, whereas their wild cousins have a richer, gamier taste. Most frogs’ legs are roughly the size of a small chicken wing. In all cases they should be plump and have a nice pink color.

FROGS’ LEGS PROVENCALE

12 large pairs of 24 small pairs frog’s legs
Cold milk to cover (whole or 2%)
1 can (1lb. 12oz) crushed tomatoes
2 cloves garlic, peeled and finely minced
Flour for dredging frogs’ legs
1/4 teaspoon dried oregano
Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
1/2 cup vegetable or corn oil
1/2 stick butter
1/4 cup finely chopped parsley

1. You need to keep the frogs’ legs flat as they cook. This is done by inserting one leg in between the two muscles of the lower part of the other leg.
2. Place the legs in a bowl and add cold milk to barely cover.
3. Place the tomatoes, undrained, in a small saucepan. Stir in the garlic and bring to a boil. Lower heat and simmer for 20 minutes. Remove from heat and set aside.
4. Meanwhile, blend the flour with the oregano, and salt and pepper to taste. Remove one pair of legs at a time from the milk and dredge in flour, turning to coat well.
5. Heat oil in a large skillet or fry pan, add butter and, when it is quite hot, add the legs. Cook until golden on  one side. Turn and cook until golden on the other side.
6. Transfer the legs to a serving dish and arrange them neatly in one layer.
7. Quickly heat the tomato sauce and spoon it over the legs. Sprinkle with the chopped parsley and serve with a crusty loaf of bread.
    Yield: 4 servings.

St. Valentines’s day is just around the corner. Guys and gals, this time around instead of going out to some overpriced restaurant, why not cook your honey a sumptuous, extravagant meal featuring clams. Yes, clams. Why? Because clams throughout history have been regarded as an aphrodisiac. In other words, a sex stimulant. So what better way to celebrate the holiday? Casanova, the great lover himself, touted clams as a great aid in his many conquests. And, you know what? It ain’t too far off the mark. In 2005, in a study by Italian and American scientists, it was discovered that amino acids found in bivalves (clams, oysters, mussels, ext.) had the potential to raise sexual harmone levels. The study itself was conducted on a species of Mediterranean mussels that showed these bivalves contained amino D-aspartic acid and N-mythyl-D-aspartic acid that induced sexual harmone production in rats. There have been no follow-up studies to measure the impact on humans, but for all you out there who love shellfish, it’s great news.

To our forebears, even before science got into it, clams were regarded as an aphrodisiac because (as some noted) their plump flesh was likened in appearance to testicles. It stands to reason why someone like Casanova and, many others, would scarf up clams at the dinner table and elsewhere. But more. Let’s put it in serious perspective. A single serving of clams provides more than 100 percent of the daily allowance for iron. They are also a source of protein—which is excellent for sustaining energy. Do the math. But even for those of us who don’t consider clams as appetizing, they are delicious as in the following recipe in which they are prepared in a green sauce. This is a dish that is very popular in Spain. And believe me, you’re beloved will be very impressed and more. Serve the clams and sauce atop plain white rice and you will have a very interesting and, hopefully, entertaining evening on St. Valentine’s Day.

ALMEJAS CON SALSA VERDE
     (Clams with Green sauce)

About 24 to30 littleneck clams
1/4 cup olive oil
2 cloves garlic, finely chopped
1/4 cup chopped scallions
Freshly ground black pepper to taste
1/4 teaspoon dried oregano ( or 1/2 teaspoon fresh)
1/2 cup  dry sherry
3/4 cup fresh or canned clam juice
1 tablespoons butter
2 tablespoons flour
2-3 tablespoonswater
Salt to taste
1/2 cup chopped parsley
Hot cooked rice

1. Have the clams opened at the fish store, or open them by hand with a knife or clam opener. However, open the clams on the half shell, discarding the top shell. Leave the clam attached to the bottom shell. Reserve the clam liquid.
2. Heat the olive oil in a skillet or fry pan (I prefer cast-iron) until it’s very hot. Then add the clams on the half shell and garlic. Cook, stirring over high heat about 30 seconds. Be aware that if you cook them any longer the clams will toughen, and you don’t want that. Add the scallions, pepper, oregano and sherry. Add the clam liquid, clam juice and butter, and bring to a boil.
3. In a cup quickly blend the flour and water and stir it into the clam sauce. Stir until thickened. Add salt to taste. Stir in the parsley and mix.
4. Serve over rice.
    Yield: 4 servings.

During winter and, especially the holiday season, it is customary to drink wine infused with spices, such as mulled wine or “hot wine.” Spiced wine goes back to Roman times and, during the Middle Ages, the most popular drink of all was Ipocras (or Hipocras). This was a mixture of wine, cinnamon, sugar and ginger. In some recipes nutmeg was also added. Ipocras was taken at the end of a meal as a digestive. That means it was beneficial to the internal plumbing. It was a drink of the highest nobility and it was served to Queen Elizabeth I at her coronation.

It was also a drink that defined your station in life. According to a very old cookbook, Forme of Cury (1390), Ipocras made with sugar is destined for the lords. Ipocras made with honey is for the people. Sugar was a very expensive commodity in those days which only the higher classes could afford it. Luckily, today, those of us in the 99 percent can afford sugar as well as honey. So think of drinking Ipocras as a way to get back at the one percenters. Whichever way you look at it, it makes for a great beverage during these cold, chilly days. Hell, it’s a great drink for any season since it can be served at room temperature or slightly chilled. 

The recipe given is by one Ruperto de Nola from his cookbook, Libro de Guisados (Book of Stews), the 1529 edition. Ruperto was cook to King Fernando of Naples.

The Middle Ages is not known for its gastronomy. But this drink seems to have gotten a lot of people through those Dark Ages.

IPOCRAS

1 1/2 cups red wine
1 1/2 cups dry wine
1 teaspoon powdered cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon powdered cloves
1/8 teaspoon powdered ginger
2 tablespoons sugar (or more to taste)

1. Combined all of the ingredients in an enameled or heat-proof glass pot.
2. Bring slowly to a boil.
3. Once it starts boiling, remove from heat. Strain though cheesecloth or a cloth sieve set over a bowl. Serve at room temperature, or slightly cool, in mugs or (if you want to be fancy about it) wine glasses.
    Yield: about 2-3 cups