Icey Goodness

In rebellion against expensive ice cream ($6 per half pint), I've turned into an ice cream factory. It all started innocently enough, with a large tub of vanilla bean ice cream. Quick and easy, no stewing, no seeping, no chopping – just a quick splice of the vanilla pod and I let it chill out in the fridge before it turned into frozen creamy goodness. Then enticed by cheap and surprisingly sweet strawberries, I produced another couple of tubs of strawberry balsamic ice cream. First I roasted the strawberries in some balsamic vinegar and then then threw some extra balsamic into the custard before it chilled.

A couple of days ago, one of my coworkers commissioned a tub of olive oil ice cream. The only place we've had olive oil ice cream is at Otto's pizzeria in New York, where they also coincidentally have a strawberry balsamic offering as well as other delicious flavors. On one particularly hot summer day, my friend Melissa and I went to Robert Moses beach when the currents were ripping and the jellyfish were out, but we still were hell bent on swimming. Once we came back to the city all toasted and crispy, we went to extra virgin for dinner and sat outside and ate grilled fish and toodled over to Otto's with our boogie boards in tow for some gelato. 3 flavors each – olive oil, lemon verbena and salty caramel. It was deeeeeeelightful.


fresh but still goopey from the ice cream maker

Anyway, I digress. Thanks to David Lebovitz, I now have a tub and a half of lemon olive oil ice cream in the freezer, and hopefully a happy coworker tomorrow.




So to commemorate my first food commission and to underscore how I've turned into a mini ice cream factory, I've come up with my name (thanks Angela!) and logo....just in case I want to expand my delicious (mini) empire.

My ice cream offering will be artic themed – polar bears being adorable, penguins throwing ice cream snowballs being insufferably adorable, I can change out of my winter outfit if one weekend I decide that I want to set up a lemonade stand in and charge Georgetown prices for a (fancy) cup of lemonade.

In the meantime, if you're in DC and want some Janicey Goodness, I'll all ears, eggs and spatulas.

General DC-ness, stomach still firmly lodged in NY

Oh no! Blog neglect!

So sorry for the winter absence. I've spent the cold part of the year shuttling back and forth, trying to learn french and pry myself away from NY, but every 3 weeks or so, my stomach says SHABU SHABU! or Diner! and I always find a good excuse, give in promptly and make a scramble for the Acela. I've tried to eat my way around DC which resembles midtown, to almost no avail. I've had friends who are also NY transplants confirm that I should save my appetite for trips up north. Besides a bargain, and enough leftovers for a steak and egg breakfast the next day, DC food has always always always left me wanting something a little more special (Except the steak frites with the mysterious green sauce as Bistrot du Coin) and wishing that I cooked at home instead.

This is not to say though, that I am not enjoying the fresh air, flowers, languid weekends, and my larger kitchen. I can now afford enough time for a weekend paper subscription, quality time on the couch and a decent night's sleep with a nap in the evening. Small things that make me happy – showering and eating before dark. The word "suburbia" no longer makes me weak at the knees and grass doesn't make my heart go aflutter. I'm struggling with how much of my New York City induced psychosis I should let go of – the sound of traffic at night, for one. But dammit New York, your food and farmers markets are unmatched.




The silver lining though, is access to Polyface farm's metropolitan buying club that delivers to the Takoma Park area in Maryland. It's a well run operation with tons of coolers and boxes of eggs. How it works is that you place an order with the farm to pick up at a specified location at least a week in advance – there are a handful of locations to choose from. All you have to do is pick out some food and wait for your delivery day. They'll even lend you a cooler bag if you don't have your own. Joel Salatin raises an exquisite grass fed steak. I also have a couple of pastured chickens in the freezer. The Salatins were made famous by Michael Pollan's book the Omnivoire's Dilemma and his farm was subsequently featured in Food Inc. and Fresh the Movie, two films about food, produce and responsibly farming and eating. I recently went to a Joel Salatin lecture at Columbia as he waxed lyrical about happy chickens as I stared, transfixed, by the chickens on his tie. Knowing that I now live within his food shed pacifies me somewhat. Now my last bastions of hope for fresh, moderately priced vegetables are the Veggieporium at a farmers market in Glover Park, unaffiliated to the FreshFarm markets (I ate reasonably priced sugar snap peas to my heart's content today) and my CSA (Community Supported Agriculture) which should start up in a week or too which will deliver vegetables direct from farm to doorstep.

So many gastronomical trips have been undocumented in the last quarter, so indulge me while I spew some of the highlights of this year's indulgence.


First dinner of the year in NY. First at 5 Leaves in Greenpoint, then at Roebling Tea Room. I have mixed feelings about that place. Love the atmosphere, not so much the staff.



Sun's up, time to hightail it to Abraco.




Brunch time!




More brunch at my other love, Diner. I had a bit of a strange sandwich I'm glad I tried – a fried oyster and country pate sandwich on focaccia, but probably not the best while still waking up. Angela had the country breakfast with rabbit sausage. slurp.




Bunch again! Pumpkin pancakes at Kitchenette.




Brunch with Rachel & Ed at Prune featuring the Steakginormosaurus.




Brunch with Melissa at Flatbush Farm. More eggy delights.





A legitimate reason to be back up in NY! A wedding! And a tasty one too with a mini cupcake wedding cake, BBQ, and yummy drinks.




Secret restaurant underground. I won't tell where!





Murrays Cheese Shop, the happiest place in the world. I used to live a 5 minute skip away from here and I'd bring back cheese and munch on them on the fire escape.




Adorable ice cream truck. With unicorns.




Oh, shabu shabu! Nothing is more delightful than dipping slices of raw beef into a hot pot, then dredging them through ponzu. I'm fortunate enough to be friends with dedicated shabu shabu enthusiast, who is seldom able to turn down a night of feasting, although I oftentimes out eat Nick by a full half hour. The other great thing about this arrangement is that he is also a little lactose intolerant, so I get to eat an extra scoop of green tea ice cream that comes with the meal at the end.


Meanwhile, back in DC:


Sofia & Colin come to visit. Their only complaint? Noisy birds at 5am.



Master chef Colin whipped up some steak and eggs with some hashbrowns and asparagus wrapped in prosciutto. I made some pizza.




Small bundles from the farmers market and a slightly oversized rhubarb galette.




Oh DC, we have some growing pains for sure, but at least you're charming sometimes.