August 27, 2006

More cappuccino progress

The last time I wrote about my experiences with making cappuccinos, I was having better success. The key was the water pressure - as soon as it was fixed my froth became much better. Still, I haven't been that happy. My frothing frequently turns out too bubbly, or too thin, or both.

For help, I went to Zibetto and asked the barrista there about how to make the proper froth. He was very willing to give some tips. First he made some froth and showed me the consistency - it was thick but there were no bubbles. He said that's how it should be, thick & smooth, like yogurt. He said there was nothing to the frothing, you just position the wand at the right place (he sort of rested the pitcher of milk on the upper corner of the wand), and get a whirlpool. He did this for a few seconds, then tilted the pitcher of milk slightly so that the tip of the wand was just at the surface, creating froth. After just a second of this, he moved the wand to the center of the pitcher, all while keeping the whirlpool going. He said the whirlpool will whip air into it, and break up all the little bubbles. He kept this going until the pitcher was too hot to hold, then stopped.

I've attempted the same thing, but found that I tend to get big bubbles at the end, but just on some machines. On others, everything goes great. So for the moment, I'm sticking with the good machines. Even so, I'm not getting the volume of froth that I want. Perhaps I either need to work on my position for the few seconds I spend at the top of the milk, or extend that time period. Or maybe just none of the machines are powerful enough. My latest effort, which was fairly good:

Cappuccino

Posted by ahyatt at 12:06 AM | Comments (1)

August 22, 2006

Al Dente

One of the hard parts about cooking is that so much of it is based on knowledge that is only trasmissible through shared experience. Al dente pasta is a good example of this. Every cookbook says the same thing - to cook pasta "al dente", meaning it should not be too soft. Of course, how much is too soft, or how much is too hard? I used to cook my pasta fairly soft. After eating at some nice Italian restaurants in New York, I realized that my pasta was way too soft, so I cooked it much firmer, and found I enjoyed it a lot. Was this al dente? Or too much, or too little? First of all, I've never been to Italy, so I have nothing to compare my pasta against. Second, even in Italy, there probably is a fair amount of disagreement, something I imagine Italian grandmas bicker about while playing canasta.

When I first had pasta that was fairly firm, it was a revelation. I had a similar revelation a few months ago when eating at a restaurant in the West Village called BellaVitae. They had a pasta there that was beyond any al-dente that I've had. The spaghetti was actually cooked just to the point of having a slight crunch in the center, which was a delightful surprise. Surprisingly, they did this with the rest of the pasta not tasting undercooked at all. I'm not sure how they did it, perhaps they just have the timing down to the millisecond in which it perfectly cooked. Perfectly cooked, that is, if you like your pasta a bit crunchy.

Bella Vitae

But is that al dente? I may never know, and in fact such a thing may be unknowable, and maybe not even a question work asking, because there is no real standard on this.

Posted by ahyatt at 11:39 PM | Comments (0)

August 13, 2006

Di Fara

Last week I got a chance to visit Di Fara, a pizza joint beloved by chowhounds. This is not a restaurant, it is basically a classic slice joint, except with fanatical devotion to quality.

I've been trying to get there for a while, but it's all the way in Midwood in Brooklyn, which is far out of my way.

DiFara

The thing about Di Fara is that everything is done by Dominic DeMarco, an older man whose been running this pizza shop for decades. There's a photo of a much younger version of him, standing in the same place he is now, with what looks like the same equipment as he has now. It must be something to work in the same place for 40 years. I tried to imagine myself 40 years old working in my cubicle, but the chances of me being in the same cubicle for even 2 years in a row are pretty much nil.

Dom making a pizza


The strategy of eating at Di Fara is a lot like Dumpling House. You have to go there, shoulder your way up to the counter, make eye contact when Dom has a free second, and blurt out your order. Then repeat it to make sure he got it. Unlike Dumpling House, though, you have to stay and make sure he actually makes it, because his ordering is haphazard to say the least. People who walked in way later than you will be eating before you are, and he may just forget your order entirely.

Plain pie

When Dom makes your pie, he carefully puts the sauce on, then grates his cheese right onto your pizza. Then he pours olive oil on it, and puts it in the oven. It takes a while to bake. Unlike most high-end New York pizzas, this takes longer than 5 minutes to cook. Then again, this is not a high class pizza. It's more like a high-end low-class pizza. He takes it out of the oven to put more cheese on. When he finally pulls it out, the top is bubbling and molten, as if someone had spilled pizza soup on it. Out of the oven it comes, he peeks at the bottom, then takes his basil out and snips some basil right onto the pizza. Very nice.

The taste is great, completely unlike other pizzas. Mostly it is because of the cheese combination. It has a tangier and saltier taste. Also, richer. Two slices is pretty much all anyone needs.

Half artichoke, half mushroom

We got not only the plain pie, but also one with half artichokes, half porcini mushrooms. On the plus side, he is generous with his toppings, and the toppings are excellent. The artichokes were not some sort of canned artichoke hearts, but instead little triangles of real fresh artichokes. The porcini mushrooms weren't thin pieces of rehydrated mushrooms, but instead large whole marinated mushrooms. The problem was that these toppings made the pizza very soggy, and you could only eat it with a knife and fork. I liked the toppings, but probably the plain pizza was the best.

The crust, by the way, was good, but not as good as the more high-end pizzerias. On the whole, I think other places had a better pie, but this was certainly the best slice joint I've ever eaten at.

Posted by ahyatt at 11:33 PM | Comments (0)