New York: Sweet Like an Onion (Soup)
It will come as a surprise to none of you that New Yorkers have a reputation for being brash, outspoken, and generally one of the less pleasant collections of humans on the planet.
But some times New Yorkers talk back. A few examples from my friends:
My long-legged pal Kinny was walking down the street with her boy-pal Mott one late night in Manhattan's Flatiron district, after a lovely and overpriced meal . They passed a club, complete with 6-foot 8-inch bouncers standing outside.
As they passed, one of the large men muttered "Homo" just loud enough that Kinny and Mott could hear. Just an agressive New Yorker trying to rile up and break down two new lovers enjoying a New York night.
It was too much for Kinny. She went right over to the linebacker, looked up and poked the big galloop in the chest. "You calling my boyfriend a homo?" she said.
He took a step back. "Not at all. No ma'am." She poked him again and looked him straight in the eye, "I didn't think so." She turned, flicked her hair, put her arm in Mott's and walked away. Mott reminded Kinny that it would be he, not she who would be getting a whallop if this went any further.
But sometimes a girl's got to stand up for herself, and those she loves. Just because these Big Galloops was a foot taller and 175 pounds heavier didn't mean that Skinny Galoop needed to take what they were dishing.
Little Hannah, was describing the details of a catering gig she'd recently been offered. The "Vodka and Latke" party, is a Holiday event for an Upper East Side Synogogue. This particular synogogue stands in one of the less impoverished zip codes in the country, and in the world, but Debbie was reminded that this would be a benefit, and there would not be a tremendous amount of money for her budget.
She quoted a fair price, and they demurred. They had no more than $250 for an event for 50 people. "All professionals. Doctors, Lawyers, Bankers...lots of potential clients," she was reminded. At that rate, they'd be better off having it catered by KFC and Chips Ahoy. "Is there any way that you can work with us, we're trying to build this group to get folks more interested in charity? In the spirit of the holiday season, would you be able to reduce your rate? The vodka has been donated..."
Apparently charity starts by not paying your vendor. But Hannah's got a big heart, and made her final offer. "If this has charitable intentions, I'll use the $250 to buy potatoes, oil and onions. The very lowest rate I can charge will be $250 for my time and equipment. I will dontate my services to you, and give that amount to a charity. Will that work for you?"
"I am sorry," the party host said, "We just can't do that. It's way beyond our budget." Huh? Upper east side, young professionals. In the spirit of the season they expect that a caterer should go unpaid instead of asking each attendee for a $5 donation. Hannah declined the "job".
The examples go on, and I'd prefer not to continue with them because they make me sad. What I will tell you is that right now I'm in Charleston, South Carolina, a sparkly shiny Southern city.
Now I won't be here long enough to see if people are sincere and are of good character, if they are good neighbors and take care of one another. I'll assume they are. What I will tell you is that when I walk down the street, people say hello. They stop to pet my dog and ask me what kind of breed she is, and they smile. They talk about the weather, and compliment me on my boots.
They don't call me names when I walk down the street, and they don't ask for more than is fair. They're just pleasant. And when, my beloved New York, did being civilized become so unfashionable?
So those of you who are in New York, do me a favor? Say hello to five strangers on the street today (we certainly pass enough of each other). They might grunt back, but that's okay...one step at a time. And if some one treats you badly, stand up and play fair. No need to escalate; just say your peace, let them know that New Yorkers don't need to tread on New Yorkers.
And those of you who aren't in New York, keep being kind to one another. Y'all are just so darn good at it.
Creamy Sweet Onion Soup
The Wooden Spoon
3 tablespoons unsalted butter
3 vidalia, maui or other sweet onions, roughly chopped
4 garlic cloves, roughly chopped
2 sprigs fresh thyme
3/4 teaspoon salt
½ pound russet potatoes, peeled and cut into 1 1/2-inch cubes
1/2 cup dry white wine
3 1/2 cups chicken broth
1/2 cup heavy cream (or as needed)
1. Heat butter in a large pot. When foaming, add onions, garlic, thyme sprigs and salt; sweat, covered, over low heat until translucent and soft, about 15 minutes. Meanwhile, place potatoes in a steamer and cook until soft.
2. Add wine to onions, and simmer until pot is almost dry. Add stock and simmer 10 minutes. Remove thyme sprigs and puree in a blender, in batches if necessary. Return to pot. Using a ricer, rice the softened potatoes directly into the pot with the Vidalia puree. Add additional stock, as needed to thin the soup. Stir in cream (as desired) and season to taste. Reheat soup, stirring gently.
But some times New Yorkers talk back. A few examples from my friends:
My long-legged pal Kinny was walking down the street with her boy-pal Mott one late night in Manhattan's Flatiron district, after a lovely and overpriced meal . They passed a club, complete with 6-foot 8-inch bouncers standing outside.
As they passed, one of the large men muttered "Homo" just loud enough that Kinny and Mott could hear. Just an agressive New Yorker trying to rile up and break down two new lovers enjoying a New York night.
It was too much for Kinny. She went right over to the linebacker, looked up and poked the big galloop in the chest. "You calling my boyfriend a homo?" she said.
He took a step back. "Not at all. No ma'am." She poked him again and looked him straight in the eye, "I didn't think so." She turned, flicked her hair, put her arm in Mott's and walked away. Mott reminded Kinny that it would be he, not she who would be getting a whallop if this went any further.
But sometimes a girl's got to stand up for herself, and those she loves. Just because these Big Galloops was a foot taller and 175 pounds heavier didn't mean that Skinny Galoop needed to take what they were dishing.
Little Hannah, was describing the details of a catering gig she'd recently been offered. The "Vodka and Latke" party, is a Holiday event for an Upper East Side Synogogue. This particular synogogue stands in one of the less impoverished zip codes in the country, and in the world, but Debbie was reminded that this would be a benefit, and there would not be a tremendous amount of money for her budget.
She quoted a fair price, and they demurred. They had no more than $250 for an event for 50 people. "All professionals. Doctors, Lawyers, Bankers...lots of potential clients," she was reminded. At that rate, they'd be better off having it catered by KFC and Chips Ahoy. "Is there any way that you can work with us, we're trying to build this group to get folks more interested in charity? In the spirit of the holiday season, would you be able to reduce your rate? The vodka has been donated..."
Apparently charity starts by not paying your vendor. But Hannah's got a big heart, and made her final offer. "If this has charitable intentions, I'll use the $250 to buy potatoes, oil and onions. The very lowest rate I can charge will be $250 for my time and equipment. I will dontate my services to you, and give that amount to a charity. Will that work for you?"
"I am sorry," the party host said, "We just can't do that. It's way beyond our budget." Huh? Upper east side, young professionals. In the spirit of the season they expect that a caterer should go unpaid instead of asking each attendee for a $5 donation. Hannah declined the "job".
The examples go on, and I'd prefer not to continue with them because they make me sad. What I will tell you is that right now I'm in Charleston, South Carolina, a sparkly shiny Southern city.
Now I won't be here long enough to see if people are sincere and are of good character, if they are good neighbors and take care of one another. I'll assume they are. What I will tell you is that when I walk down the street, people say hello. They stop to pet my dog and ask me what kind of breed she is, and they smile. They talk about the weather, and compliment me on my boots.
They don't call me names when I walk down the street, and they don't ask for more than is fair. They're just pleasant. And when, my beloved New York, did being civilized become so unfashionable?
So those of you who are in New York, do me a favor? Say hello to five strangers on the street today (we certainly pass enough of each other). They might grunt back, but that's okay...one step at a time. And if some one treats you badly, stand up and play fair. No need to escalate; just say your peace, let them know that New Yorkers don't need to tread on New Yorkers.
And those of you who aren't in New York, keep being kind to one another. Y'all are just so darn good at it.
Creamy Sweet Onion Soup
The Wooden Spoon
3 tablespoons unsalted butter
3 vidalia, maui or other sweet onions, roughly chopped
4 garlic cloves, roughly chopped
2 sprigs fresh thyme
3/4 teaspoon salt
½ pound russet potatoes, peeled and cut into 1 1/2-inch cubes
1/2 cup dry white wine
3 1/2 cups chicken broth
1/2 cup heavy cream (or as needed)
1. Heat butter in a large pot. When foaming, add onions, garlic, thyme sprigs and salt; sweat, covered, over low heat until translucent and soft, about 15 minutes. Meanwhile, place potatoes in a steamer and cook until soft.
2. Add wine to onions, and simmer until pot is almost dry. Add stock and simmer 10 minutes. Remove thyme sprigs and puree in a blender, in batches if necessary. Return to pot. Using a ricer, rice the softened potatoes directly into the pot with the Vidalia puree. Add additional stock, as needed to thin the soup. Stir in cream (as desired) and season to taste. Reheat soup, stirring gently.
posted by Allison Fishman Task at 8:18 PM
4 Comments:
New Yorkers are also a defensive lot, so I'll try to couch my comments in a creamy veneer (do those innocuous sweet little Southern onions make you cry too?). I love the South: Great BBQ, sunshine, hospitality and charm, Yaknapatawpha County, great BBQ (great Southern cookbook's are notoriously thin), etc., but I must take offense of your slight of my great city, "The City" as it's known in most places throughout the land. "One of the less pleasant collections of humans on the planet"? Come on, are statements like that really necessary? A "collection of humans" is what you find in quasi-religious fanatical militia groups assembled under big tents in the Ozarks celebrating the new line of fat tire three wheelers and eating flaccid weenies (shit, there goes my defensiveness). New York is an explosion of cultures. Nowhere in this country can you find the conglomeration of... blah, blah, blah, you get the point. Anyway, other part's of your diary tell a different tale, of a New York much more akin the one I know, so I must conclude that your feelings on your place of residence are just feelings, that is entirely dependent on the state of your well being. Cheer up, sweatheart, life in NY can be pretty damn good. Bring back Vesuvio! He might just get lynched down in South Carolina, but he sounds to me like a great guy.
Interesting that you had such a lovely NY experience in the previous blog about Fiamma, and then ripped NYC a new one this week. Hmmm. I thought absence made the heart grow fonder??? Why Allison, why?
In the south - especially Charleston on King Street - its considered good manners to stop, introduce yourself and visit with a woman walking her pooch. If you're fortunate, she may hail from "the city" and surprise you with kindness and the humility of a celeb that seeks no stage. Oh, and if she has a smile not easily forgotten, than saying hello to strangers should indeed be a daily practice.
Allison my dear,
You are sugar and spice. It sounds like to me you finally have come to a state of well being. Getting rid of the jerk chef was a good start. Now on to better things and romantic stories and of course food. You are discovering the wonderful world of southern gentlemen. There is a Rhett Butler waiting for you I just know it.
In the south we also have beastly men, women and children. I personally think they have come from the north.
Oh well we will just have to think about that tomorrow and for now who in the world is this David....do tell. Keep up the good work sugar.
g.r.i.t.s
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