The Ghosts of Trees Past

I skirted the edges of Chinatown and lower SoHo (LoSoHo?) today, on the way to my post office box, where I picked up mail and a very nice little parcel from Massachusetts. More of that tomorrow.

The sidewalks were littered with fallen trees. Were these households observing the Twelve days of Christmas? Because last night would have been Twelfth Night.

I hate the word Xmas. It is not a word. It's Christmas, regardless of your beliefs (and as you know, I only believe in coffee). If you want the gifts, use the word.

What happens to the trees? They are collected by the sanitation department, and then they go into a big chipper.

You can also take your tree this Saturday the 9th and Sunday the 10th to be chipped in your hood. Here is a list of chipping and drop-off sites, borough by borough, and the ones with asterisks will also give you free mulch. Take bags. There was no free compost this year, so I say grab the mulch while you can.

David Murbach, who chose each year's 80 foot Rockefeller tree, died just before Christmas. Not only the tree man, he founded Metro Hort, and oversaw the restoration of the landmark Rockefeller roof gardens on Fifth Avenue. More about Mr Murbach's horticulturally rich career here.

Woodchucks needed. And someone didn't get the tinsel memo on the one above, on Greene Street.

"The Department of Sanitation requests that ornaments, lights, tinsel, and stands be removed from Christmas trees before they are set out for collection."

This must be the only time of year when the garbage trucks smell good.

January Blue

The red brick-sided flank of a part of the Long Island College Hospital looms over the terrace, and glows near sunset. It is the haunt of pigeons, some of whom you can see wheeling overhead. I rather like pigeons. But I think I must number in the minority...I would not go so far as feeding them, but I think they are pretty birds and I don't get the flying rat thing. Sometimes a little kestrel harries them, and eats their young, perched on an antique television aerial across the road.

Mint tea

Ever since enjoying a post North African dinner glass of mint tea at Bonbon Oiseau's house last year, I had promised myself to buy a bagful of the dried mint leaves at Sahadi's, above. I remembered endless glasses of tea in Istanbul, brought on swinging trays, with small sugar cubes and tiny spoons. Somehow I'd never thought to recreate it in New York.

After carrying loads of strange teas (mint, and the South African rooibos and honeybush, found at Wholefoods and Sahadi's, and increasingly common) to the poor non-tea drinking denizens of Bellini Street in Beloeil, I bought my own bagful at last. It's lovely stuff, and must be drunk out of a glass, for me. Like beer. I don't taste beer from a bottle, somehow. I like to see it. Half the pleasure is in the beholding.

I stuff a handful of the crumbly, fragrant leaves into a teapot, pour on boiling water, cosy the pot for about 3 minutes and then pour the green-brown tea into a strong glass with a spoonful of sugar.

Crabcakes with mandarin sauce

I really didn't know what to make for New Year's Eve dinner. But it had to go well with champagne. Was tired of chicken. Meat? No. Didn't want smoked salmon.

Poor baby.

Then, as we turned onto Court Street from Congress, to copy mounds of paperwork at the UPS store for our greencard interview, I saw Fish Tales. Ideas started to crystallize in the cold air. I wanted a fishcake. They are warm, easy, comforting. But they must be special fishcakes...

Halfway through the copying of documents the fishcakes turned into crabcakes, and, leaving Vince in line to pay, I trotted out, and into Fish Tales, and found their very last container of crab claw meat. $28. Phew. Well, it was a special occasion. I got 10 huge shrimp, too, throwing caution to the Arctic blast.

Now, what to do?

I wanted something fruity and tart to go with them - longing for Mrs Balls, a spicy-fruity chutney, and typical accompaniment for South African fishcakes made from smoked snoek or angelfish. My last bottle died halfway through the year and I was too stupid to replace. It is sold on Amazon now...

But: I had loads of mandarin oranges.

And so evolved the idea of the reduced juice sauce, fortified by the deeper sweetness of caramelized shallots.

After that it was a question of seeing what else was in the fridge. I didn't want to overwhelm the very good, sweet crab meat. Something to bind, to enhance texture, to act as a foil for the juice...

A very delicious thing was born. This is what I think of as Proper Cooking, and I don't do it very often, any more.

These measurements are approximations. I'll have to test again when we're feeling flush.

2 cups lump crab meat, super-fresh
Squeeze of lemon juice
1/4 cup (or a bit less) white breadcrumbs (I used Panko)
1/4 cup thick Greek yogurt, full fat, or well-drained natural yogurt - I used Fage
1/4 cup thinly sliced green part of scallions
1 egg
1 tsp ground sumac
1/2 tsp hot red pepper
salt and pepper
Seasoned flour for dusting

In a bowl, lightly shred the lump pieces of crab. I use a fork in each hand for this. You don't want to kill the crab, just flake it into smaller pieces. Squeeze a little fresh lemon or lime juice over (no more than a tablespoon) and mix lightly. Now add your breadcrumbs, stir again, and then thick yogurt and scallions, stirring once more. Taste for seasoning, add some salt and pepper. Add the egg, stirring lightly to distribute it evenly, and give it a dusting of sumac powder and hot pepper. These are not meant to be spicy-hot crab cakes, so don't overdo the pepper.

Form the crab mixture into patties, four should work, and dip each one into flour, dusting off the excess, and put on a plate to chill in the fridge for about an hour

Caramelized shallot and mandarin sauce

5 mandarin oranges/clementines
1 large shallot, finely diced

Juice the mandarins, reserving the pulp. Saute the shallot in some olive oil until golden. Don't burn. Add the juice to the shallots and reduce until syrupy, about half an hour.

Strain the sauce and reserve to heat for the crabcakes when cooked.

Keep the shallots that have remained in the strainer, add them to the pulp for the mandarins and cook very slowly in a little oil, until completely caramelized. Reserve for garnishing the crabcakes.

To cook the crabcakes, heat olive oil over medium heat, add cakes one at a time, giving them a push as you put them in the pan (stops them from sticking). Cook on one side till golden, repeat. Have hot sauce waiting, put cakes into pool of sauce on warm plate, add relish...and be prepared for happiness.

P.S. Go and see Avatar. The Imax theatre's 3D made me as sick as a dog, and I should have seen it in a regular theatre (I'd never seen 3D before...), but you might not have that problem We were seated really low down too. Why on earth can one not reserve seats when booking tickets online? Barbaric. But the movie has rekindled the idea of Imagination in Movies. Lots of landscapes, plants and wonderful animals. Go.

Chicken with olives

For two

1 shallot, thinly sliced
2 heads garlic, cloves separated and peeled
1/4 cup tomato paste
4 chicken legs and thighs (attached)
1 cup fruity white wine
2 Tbsp grainy mustard
3/4 cup hot Syrian olives, mixed (or subs. miscellaneous olives with a slice of - preserved, if you have it! - lemon and a hot pepper)
2 tsp brown sugar
1 Tbsp ground, hot red pepper (I used 'Halaby' aka aleppo pepper, from Sahadi)
3 bay leaves
salt and pepper

In a casserole, over medium heat, sweat the shallots in some olive oil, add the garlic cloves and cook until their skins gleam, about a minute, add the tomato paste and stir....

Add chicken, pour over wine, add olives, mustard, sugar, hot red pepper, bay leaves, salt and pepper, stir.

Add water to just reach the top of the chicken pieces, bring to a bubble and put in a 350'F/180'C oven, covered, for about an hour and a half. The liquid should have reduced by about two thirds, and the chicken browned and falling-apart tender. If it has not, remove the lid and put back in the oven.

Cook some large-boned (?) pasta and spoon some of the sauce over the drained pasta just before serving. Serve chicken pieces on the top. Eat.

This was a very successful supper. I had nothing in the fridge. One shallot left. Bay leaves. A lot of garlic. Tomato paste - and I really wanted a full, meaty-tasting sauce for pasta. So I used ALL the tomato paste, added the olives to make it look better and the mustard as an after thought. The hot red pepper rounded things off wonderfully.

Congress Street

Two unusually large Euonymous alatus (winged euonymous) between Court and Clinton, behind the catholic church, in today's dusting of snow. An invasive shrub, I forgive these two, as they have a lovely shape and gorgeous red fall colour. Every year someone hacks at their branches in an ignorant fashion, leaving protruding stumps, in an attempt to curtail their growth.

25'F/-3'C, and we are going for a walk.

Jessica Moll: 8 October 1985 - 1 January 2010

Each year in South Africa, thousands of people are killed in car accidents.

Today one of those people was twenty-four year old Jessica Moll, daughter of my cousin Beverley and husband Mike, grand daughter of my Aunt Yvonne and Uncle Reg, who live a few houses down from their family, in the hot, pretty town of Paarl.

They don't know yet what happened, or how. And just like that she is gone.

What an awful way to start this year.

Vince and I had a quiet evening at home last night, a good dinner, for which we dressed up, and a long walk in the falling snow, through Brooklyn Heights, before midnight. Somewhere, Jessica was probably asleep, seven hours head of us.

We stood on the promenade and watched a party in a brownstone, with double bass, a saxophone, a singer, and couples dancing in the warm light. Behind us people gathered in coats and under umbrellas, looking at the lit monoliths of downtown Manhattan across the East River. From the south end of the Promenade uncannily movie-like 20's dance music came drifting, and I thought someone must have set up an old-fashioned gramophone.

We watched far-off fireworks, and turned home, walking past pairs of cops, out in force, obligingly taking pictures of tourists and turning a blind eye to celebratory champagne corks popping.

The 20's dance music was coming out of a cop car parked at the end of the Promenade, lights blazing, music streaming to us from his powerful roof-mounted loudhailer. We smiled. Happy New Year, he said to us through his open window, from his seat inside.

...Happy New Year

A tall order at the best of times.

To my cousins, and aunt and uncle, I am so terribly, terribly sorry. You have been constantly in our thoughts.

01/04/10 - From Jessica's Facebook page, from her friend Dora, who was in the car with her. Jessica died on the scene:

My best friend, I have survived our ordeal, but you have departed in quite an untimely manner, if you don't mind me saying so. Nothing will ever be the same. I love you and you will be with me always. I promise to take care of Appel, as he did of me. I hope that lovely Bach we were listening to filled your ears and heart to the last, as you will mine.