My Nuts: A Trad Tradition

I've been invited to a New Year's party. And I'm bringing my hot nuts (and the Golf Foxtrot). The guy having the party has some mighty fine nuts and his wife is a big fan of his nuts but I'm bringing heat this year. Real HEAT.

I've been going by the recipe in the 'Essentially Lilly" cook book for years. Well, ever since it came out in '04. Nice pictures of Lilly in that book. I swear I hit on her at the Conch House in St. Augustine, FL around 1983. She left me standing in the parking lot and waved goodbye as she drove off in a Rolls Corniche. I'm not sure it was her but my heart tells me it was.

If you're going to a party this week - - I suggest you bring your own nuts. Here's a great recipe from Lilly P's book with my alterations:

Half stick of unsalted butter (I've done this with salted and unsalted - didn't seem to matter)

1/2 C of sugar ( Cut Lilly's half cup in half. Is that a 1/4 cup? I dunno)
1/4 C of water (Again, half it)
1 tablespoon garam marsala (double it)
1/2 teaspoon salt (or not if using salted butter )
3 1/2 C Pecan halves (Make it 4C)
Melt the butter in a medium sauce pan and add the sugar, water, garam marsala and salt (or not) to the mix over medium heat while dissolving the sugar.

First posted 28 December 2009

For nuts with HEAT add-
1/2 tablespoon of cayenne
1 teaspoon chili powder

Reduce for a minute and dump your nuts in the sauce pan. Coat them as best you can. You may need help some help with this. Once coated, spread your nuts on a glass baking dish and pop in a 350 degree oven turning the dish every five minutes for 15 minutes.

After taking your nuts out of the oven they'll need to cool. But before they get too cool you'll need to scrape your nuts up and toss them in a bowl. Then you're ready to bring your nuts to the party. If you did this right -- people are gonna be saying some nice things about your nuts. Somebody might say, "Hey, how do you walk with nuts like that? And you say, "Lilly taught me. Just before she left me in the Conch House parking lot.

Grits avec Triple Cream

Good slow cook grits available here. This is gonna take an hour to an hour and a half.  
1 Cup Grits, 4 Cups water, 2 tsps kosher salt, 2tbsp butter, 4 ounces Triple Cream Cheese

Bring to boil in a copper risotto pan. It does for grits what it does for creamy risotto. I use this.

Bring to simmer. Use more butter if grits start sticking to bottom of pan.  Stir, a lot. 

Set aside 4 ounces triple cream cheese (camouflaged butter) and trim rind off

Catch up on your reading while you stir.

After an hour, deposit triple cream chunks.  Or, you can microwave cheese and add for buttery depth.

No leftovers.

 Creamy grits, like creamy risotto, demand a lot of stirring and a lot of time.  I also happen to like a lot of butter. And that got me to thinking about risotto making and grits.  A risotto pan is perfect for keeping heat even and keeping grits from sticking to the bottom of the pan.  Last week a half wheel of triple cream cheese was left over from a party and I wondered if it would work with grits.   Not because I know food -- I just didn't want the cheese to go bad.

The first time, I microwaved the cheese and added it after 60-70 minutes, and stirred for another 10 minutes.  There was a huge and deep mouthful of butter.  Maybe too much. I tried it again and added slices of cheese without the rind. Still buttery but not overwhelming. This is a bit over the top and, to that end, it pairs perfectly with champagne.  It's for a celebration --  Like having power and a toilet that works.

Pee Wee, Cowboy Curtis & Oeufs en Cocotte

Jambi: One pair of cowboy boots coming up! What size?

Cowboy Curtis: Uh, size 12, double E.

Pee-wee: Boy, big feet.

Cowboy Curtis: Well, ya know what they say.

Pee-wee: No. What?

Cowboy Curtis: For big feet, big boots!

I imagine most of you entitled snots were sitting on the floor in diapers with a piece of Zwieback sticking out of your drooling little mouth when this episode of Pee Wee's Playhouse aired back in November of 1986. I was in bed with a hangover and a woman old enough to be your mother. Not my mother. Your mother.

That's what some of your parents were doing in 1986. Laying in bed nursing hangovers and watching Pee Wee and Cowboy Curtis talk about wieners and big feet. I wonder how many obnoxious style bloggers were conceived during this episode? My spark was squeezed out while Jonathan Winters did 'Boys of Spring' on Jack Paar.



It's Saturday or Sunday morning. Hell, it can be Monday morning if you're highly evolved. You wake up with a throbbing head next to last night's first date. And lets say you wanna stay. It happens. You not only wanna stay...you want to make an impression. Especially if you didn't do so well last night. It happens...to you. Not to me.

Oeufs en Cocotte, my friend. It sounds (ee-noof en coe-kot) a helluva lot better than pancakes and bacon and it's a whole lot easier to make. Ask your host if they have any ramekins. Most women and all gay men have at least two. Four is better. Then tell them to go back to sleep.



If you find Stouffer's creamed spinach in the freezer then you're cooking with gas. That's an old expression, cooking with gas. You may be cooking with electric or, if you're Foster Huntington, with Sterno. Whatever, it's best to microwave the creamed spinach (4-5 minutes) then pour the whole bag into two (or four) ramekins. This is a real 'wing it' kind of recipe. No hard and fast rules. You can butter the ramekin or not. You can use herbs, onions, cheese, bacon, white truffle oil, tuna...anything you want although it helps if you use breakfasty stuff.


Crack one egg over whatever you placed in the bottom of the ramekin and place the ramekins in a sauce pan of boiling water. Mark Bittman leaves the boiling water out. Why? Because his cook books suck, that's why. You gotta have the boiling water step or, if you just stick the ramekins in an oven, you're gonna get oeufs en cocotte hard as a hockey puck. It happens...especially to Mark Bittman


Transfer the ramekins in boiling water to a 400 degree oven and set your timer for 8-10 minutes. The real luxury here is the softness of the eggs. Sexy is a good word. I recommend taking a tray of ramekins back to bed and presenting them to your new best friend, perhaps with a warm blowy whisper in their ear, "ee-noof en ko-kot." You can explain what cocotte means afterwards.

The Hangover Cure

M Magazine 12/1987

Trust me on this one -- Forget everything else. Goes well with grilled lamb and a Cote du Rhone. Key: Emmentaler Swiss. Tom Cat bread. The Del Fuegos, 'I Still Want You.' Destroy a gas station, 'It's a Mad, Mad Mad, Mad World.'

Holiday Hooch: The Redline

One quart of strawberries...



Roasted on smoking hot cast iron.



Remember to turn off the fire alarm.



Puree in blender



Slowly pour over - I'm not a dollop kinda guy.



Lack of agave syrup & substitution of Prosecco - Not a good idea.


Works wonders with beer



Clean and crisp for the



-- perfect nightcap.

"Innovation that happens from the bottom up tends to be chaotic
but smart. Innovation that happens from the top down
tends to be orderly but dumb."
Curtis Carlson, CEO SRI International

The Redline cocktail was swiped from the Williams-Sonoma blog. Corporate to be sure, the blog features professional and amateur writers contributing useful content that's far from self serving and "free shipping."

The Redline itself seemed a good idea and I gave it a shot Thanksgiving night. A roasted strawberry puree added to a Spanish Cava with a suggestion of agave syrup. I didn't have any agave syrup. Instead, I substituted Prosecco thinking an Italian sparkler would make up for the sweetness I was losing from the missing agave.

Not so much. A tad bitter and boring. What the roasted puree did work well with was beer. Use something simple and clean like Budweiser or Becks. I poured the beer slowly over three fingers of puree in a pilsner glass. It works. A perfect end to Thanksgiving -- Especially since it was 60 degrees outside.

Decanting New Ideas

Let her rip - The Blender Decant

A reader sent a heads up yesterday from Business Week on decanting with a blender (seen here). Simply pour a bottle in a blender and let it rip on high for 30-60 seconds. The 'foam' subsides PDQ and you're ready to pour and enjoy. My first thought on this version of a "Spank" decant? It can't be done with an old wine. Where's all that sediment go? I assume every damned where.

But with a young California Cab or Spanish Monstant - - Well, it would seem to make sense. With my favorite, the little known Italian tannin howitzer from Umbria, Sagrantino di Montefalco, (six - eight hour decant - I kid you not), this hyper-spank makes huge sense.

Decanters are a pain. A pain to wash and a pain to dry -- although a close friend with a wine addiction in London suggested a blow dryer for those hard to reach places to dry in my favorite ship's decanter. It really works. Also, much of the aerate product out there looks pretty dodgy so what's the risk with a blender?

My tweak is to use an immersion blender -- in a large glass pitcher. It's gonna do what the blender does, but without the horror of pouring a bottle into something the Foxtrot uses for her frozen margaritas. Food nerd and ex Microsoft CTO, Nathan Myhrvold is grabbing all the credit he can find for the idea, but it looks like it's been around a while. Early 'wine expert' naysayers deal with the newbie idea here in a fascinating forum discussion right out of Moneyball. Cheers, to the Newbie.

"Sit Next To Me, Sexy"

Chateau Musar- Elegance from the Bekka Valley


"Over the years, I’ve loved some and disliked others, but I’ve always found them fascinating. Their “flaws” will not make them universally loved, with many being turned off for one reason or another (such as the barnyard and funk that often accompanies them).

Those who do like their style and character will be, and have been, enthralled by age worthy wines coming from an unlikely location." Review from Wine Exchange

Many years ago I dated a woman from Lebanon. She was older with thick black hair, coffee and cream satin skin, jet black eyes and the best French kisser I have ever known. Curvy with a fondness for tight dresses -- everything above her heels was welcoming. She defined sultry and she liked to call me, "sexy." As in, "What are you doing way over there? Come sit next to me, sexy."

The 2001 Chateau Musar ($45) is a full on sexy mouth of of silk. While the more affordable Hochar ($26) comes full on Rhone -- Bordeaux would be my reference for Chateau Musar. An elegant blend of Cabernet, Cinsault and Carignane, it finishes unlike any wine I've ever had in my life. Long, spicy with just a hint of sin.

I paired it last night with short rib burgers from Pat La Frieda. No cheese this time. Only a thick slice of New Jersey tomato, lettuce and a slice of onion all on a potato roll. Despite the contrast of a burger and a $45 wine -- or, because of it -- it worked that magic when simple food and wine combinations turn into glorious moments remembered forever.

Does the wine remind me of the woman or does the woman remind me of the wine? I'm not sure. They're both unique and not obviously beautiful. Look, any man browsing in a wine store is not gonna be drawn to a $45 red wine from Lebanon. But, that's exactly where life gets interesting. So... what are doing sitting way over there, sexy?

Lots Of Friday Belts

Somewhere on the Upper West Side -- Near Broadway -- Maybe it's on Broadway -- I'm not telling you exactly -- In the 70s -- There are a number of outdoor book stalls. The guys who own them don't strike me as serious bibliophiles. Sometimes you can find a real bargain. It's a couple blocks south of Fairway. I'm not telling you exactly where.

The Golf Foxtrot does not allow me to stop at book stalls. And she ain't crazy when I bring books back from book stalls. Sometimes they smell like an ashtray. She's also afraid of bed bugs. Me? Not so much.

Walking north on Broadway a week or so ago -- 50 feet north of 73rd Street -- On the west side of the street -- Not telling you exactly where -- The sun reflects off a sheet of mylar and nearly blinds me. Stumbling up to a stall between Loehmann's and American Apparel -- That's your last clue -- I find this book. The yellowed '40s style cover is one I've seen before.


The introduction by Lucius Beebe is one I've read before. And I know, through my many bookstore travels, that this book is worth, depending on condition, about $100 smackeroos. Even more in New York. That should be a bumper sticker-- "Even More In New York" Anyway, I open the book and see it's a first printing. $3.00 is written in pencil at the top of the page.


The book is bright and clean with no smell and no bed bugs. I look at the stall owner and Presbyterian him down to $2 because, that's what you're supposed to do in New York. Another bumper sticker?


I get the book home and am amazed at the number of cocktail recipes, long lost to history, that I can steal and call my own. If I could find a source for cheap custom made belts then I'd have a book contract -- And a line. Look at the Portuguese Virgin. White Port!? Who in the hell even buys White Port anymore? Well, me but that's another story.


Most are straightforward sans blenders and infused syrups


"How about a Sink or Swim, Phil?" Now that's a cocktail


One of you will steal this


Never


Beats a Slow Comfortable Screw


"Do you want me to call you in the morning or should I just nudge you?"


Two of you will steal this


Brandy, gin and vermouth - That's a wedding


The End


Pretty amazing story, huh? I just wish it were true. What is true is that I don't have the time or the bridge table to set up a stall on Broadway. And I have a lotta catalogs to sell. Brooks Brothers catalogs going back to 1980. The first batch went up Sunday night. I'll follow each week with different seasons: Fall, Christmas, Winter, Spring and Summer.


Brooksgate, Women, Footwear...You get the idea. These things are taking up too much room in an 805 sq foot apartment. Add that to the fact that Heavy Tweed Jacket is off the air again and you can blog your own Brooks Brothers posts. Catalogs can be found here and I suggest having a few of these cocktails while you're bidding. Cheers.

Cowboy Steak "I Wouldn't Have It Any Other Way"

From The Wild Bunch

From Cooks Magazine 2005

About the right temp

Throw the corn on first


Let the marinated whatever get to room temp


After corn grills for 40 minutes

Add whatever

A nice option to a tannin red is Chateau Musar Hochar from Lebanon

When I lived out west as a kid I remember flank steak was sometimes called 'cowboy steak.' I liked cowboy stuff a lot but I fell into that late '60s early '70s cowboy antihero movie phase of which Sam Peckinpah's Wild Bunch pretty much wrote the book.

My dad took me to see it when I was 12. It's probably my favorite movie and I'm not sure why. There's something about going down a road and you know it's wrong. In every way. But you go down it anyway. I guess it's about the only 'noir' western I've ever seen.

I was lucky enough to live in Texas, Colorado and Oklahoma. Places where you could find a cowboy steak. There's a place here in NYC that offers cowboy steak but I don't have the cojones to try it. Make my own instead. Pretty simple. Pretty cheap.

The cheaper the cut the better. Pick anything up there in that old Cook's Kitchen illustration and you can't go wrong. Why? Because your gonna marinade this for at least eight hours. I reckon you can get by with four but not any less. I use a half a cup of Tamari sauce, about 3 tablespoons of toasted sesame oil and a half tablespoon of wasabi power.

This is key. I used to chop up a clove or two of garlic and mix it with the liquid. I'd lose all the garlic when I turned the steak over on the grill. Instead, stick pieces of the garlic into the scored sections. The garlic usually burns and gives you that fantastic burnt taste. Throw some Summer corn on. Peel back the stalk and take the silk out. Fold the stalk back up and soak it in water for four hours.

The corn's gonna take most of the time on the grill. Especially with weak Webers. After the corn's been on for 40 minutes I toss the cowboy steak on. It's impossible to give a time since even my grill seems different each time I cook. Instead, I push down on the steak. Just about right reminds me of how my ass felt when I was 25.

Take the steak off and let it sit for four minutes. A cold beer or a Rose would be nice but I found this red from Lebanon that I've been in search of for a long time. The 2002 Chateau Musar Hochar is soft as Jello pudding. More Rhone than Cab and a big hit at $25.

Someone asked me who I would have dinner with - dead or alive. I'd love to sit down with Sam Peckinpah, William Holden, Warren Oates and Ben Johnson somewhere down in Mexico. Watch the sun set and talk about washers - women - what you do when you side with a man and what's it like to walk down that road.


"It ain't like it used to be - - but it'll do."