A few years ago, while traveling in Japan, I became interested in what the table looked like after the meal. Here are a few photographs to begin this ongoing series.

La Alhambra, Sevilla, Trujillo, Granada, Ronda, Madrid

Madrid

UNDER CONSTRUCTION – PHOTOS RETURNING SOON

Cádiz

Trujillo

 

near Sevilla

 

I can still taste my first bite of an oyster Po Boy in New Orleans. It was at the Acme and the combination of crunchy bread, warm crisp oysters, cold lettuce and tomatoes was transforming. Sadly, the Acme doesn’t measure up any more. Domilise’s has been my favorite in recent years. This trip we discovered Stanley’s on Jackson Square, around the corner from its sister restaurant, Stella’s. They’ve tweaked the classic Oyster Po Boy with a coleslaw that made every bite a sensational experience.

But that’s not all. They also served Eggs Benedict with Fried Oysters that just might be even better, according to my wife.  I’m biased towards Po Boys, but it too was amazing.

Oysters at every meal. That makes for a happy life. We finally got to Casamento’s, a NOLA institution. But I was disappointed. The oysters were not that tasty. It might have been that they weren’t cold. They serve them right out of the bushel basket, surprising to see them so muddy. No hosing down these bivalves, though the dirt didn’t get into the oyster.

The best oysters on this trip (and the last one too, during JazzFest) was at Restaurant Luke, one of John Besh’s six restaurants. Cold and scrumptious.

Motivation for this trip was to celebrate the launch of John Besh’s book “My New Orleans,” ad amazing book, if I do say so myself. (My wife, Dorothy Kalins, produced it.) It’s getting wonderful reviews, like the one in Head Butler that compares it to the bible (http://bit.ly/IynCE):  ”Like the Bible, it’s a story of generations: A boy grows up in rural Louisiana, learns the lessons of his people and tries to keep them alive for his children. And, like the Bible, “My New Orleans” is serious at its core — John Besh was not lacking in a sense of mission before Katrina, but he came out of it with a sense of stewardship for his beloved city and its traditional cuisine.”

John’s other restaurants include August, the just opened Domenica, an Italian bistro which makes its own cured meats, Besh Steak, La Provence, and The American Sector. The beautiful photography is by Ditte Isager.

 

I’d never walk out of my apartment and buy fried dough. But how can one go to NOLA without stopping at Cafe du Monde and scarfing down hot beignets.

I got to eat at Bon Ton Cafe, one of the classic NOLA restaurants. A regular told me he eats there every day. And, John Besh did a Food Network segment there about his favorite food minutes before his big party kicked off.

 

UNDER CONSTRUCTION – photos returning soon

I was asked to photograph Yom Kippur services at The Shul of New York — www.theshulofnewyork.org.

It’s called A Synagogue for Spiritual Judaism. And, after a little time there, it’s hard to deny. High Holy Day services are held at The Orensantz Center, on the Lower Eastside in New York. It’s the oldest continually operating reform synagogue in New York City.

 

My grandfather, who sold rags from a push cart could have worshipped there.

Rabbi Bert Siegel opens every service with a welcome to every worshiper: whether you are black, white, straight, gay, Christian, Moslem, Hindu, even Jews are welcome, he jokes.

 

 

The Shul Band is led by Adam Feder: playful, joyful, gospel-like renditions ofalmost every prayer — parishioners singing,  swaying, and yes, dancing.  Virtuoso musicians including three violins — the Villa-Lobos brothers from Mexico — guitar, bass, drums, keyboard, clarinet (bass too), soprano saxophone, mandolin, two, three and more vocalists.

 

 

 

Now that’s what I call spiritual.

It’s always a nice surprise when an article that I shot months or in this case over two years earlier comes out. It’s like an old friend coming to visit. “A Taste of Tokyo” just hit the stands – Town & Country, August 2009. Town & Country Travel commissioned the piece on restaurants in Tokyo but when that magazine closed, the article was shifted to Town & Country and published in a much shortened form.

Photos below marked with * are published in the article.

My incredibly talented wife, Dorothy Kalins, wrote the Town & Country article and arranged for us to do another piece as well so we could afford the trip.“The Konnichiwa Kid” was produced for Budget Travel, (July/August 2007), an article was about taking your teen to Japan. Our son Lincoln had been hounding us to go for a few years. He’d been interested in anime and karate; he even took Japanese at The Japan Society.

You can’t go to Tokyo and wing it. Getting lost is part of the adventure or frustration depending on what time of day it is. House numbers make no sense. The first house built in a neighborhood is number one. The second may be two blocks away, but it’s number two. Plus, there are 140,000 restaurants in Tokyo. From Dorothy’s intense research, we did very well. We ate at about a dozen places, high and low, including two three stars — Quintessence and  Kozue.

Quintessence chef, Shuzo Kishida, looks like he’s about 15 years old. His plates often appear as indecipherable modern art – great for photographs – extraordinary flavors. “…a perfect half a tomato, not a traditional Japanese ingredient but served with one that is, ume (plum), and strewn with blossoms: a spoonful of goat’s milk bavarois on a soft slick of olive oil; a slice of  roast pork, cooked for hours at low temperature.”

And, a kaiseke meal for the ages at Kozue in the Park Hyatt of Lost In Translation fame. The food was fabulous and the presentation simply awesome. Each dish was served on a handmade, one-of-a-kind, ceramic plate.

Our favorite places were simple restaurants: nothing but tempura at Tsunahachi, all soba at Yabu Soba near Akihabara (“electric town” for everything electronic). And, Tsukiji fish market was astounding, even having to go at 3:00 AM. Interconnected, football size warehouses: in one room dozens of fresh blue fin tuna laid out on pallets, inspectors using flashlight and magnifying glasses, auctions roving from fish to individual fish. In another the frozen variety. Our guide works at the market and was able to get us into the private uni (sea urchin) auction. Precious, covered wooden boxes. When I asked to take a plastic cover off so I could photograph, it was done with great haste and lots of nervous looks over their shoulders. Exposure to air degrades the product. Who knew? What better place to eat sushi than right in the market itself, a little counter restaurant called Iwasa Sushi.

Not all meals were planned. One day we used the typeface test to find a place for lunch: if the sign has good type and design, what’s inside is usually good, the owners get it. It turned out to be a working man’s restaurant; we were the only ones not wearing coveralls. Behind  the counter a husband and wife were doing everything, including washing dishes. When we realized that no one in the place spoke English, we simply pointed at what other diners were eating and loved every bite.

Tokyo is so big, it would take weeks to get comfortable there. Kyoto was more manageable, I’d return in a second. Well, I’d return to Tokyo in a New York Minute. Ok, in Kyoto, a small restaurant called Negiya Heikichi, was recommended which we loved so much we ate their twice in four days. The chef spoke no English, of course, but we communicated just fine. The meal began with a basket filled with vegetables from which we were asked to choose three. Since we had no idea what they were saying, we thought perhaps it was a vegetarian restaurant. No, the meal was built around the chosen vegetables. The second night we went, we felt like regulars, sitting at the bar watching

Takashi Tsubaki’s cook. He kept offering us amazing dishes from paper thin tuna sashimi to grilled fava beans, and a variety of sakes which I guess he was saying, “You simply must try this one.”

We cooked a goat on the barbecue. Who knew the tail would get an erection. Marinated overnight.  In all Dorothy’s cookbooks, it’s strange there aren’t goat recipes. Common advice, like from our Italian butcher at the Cow Palace in Center Moriches: treat it like lamb, except goat is much leaner. Dorothy didn’t use lemon juice because she was afraid the meat would get mushy.

Two and a half hours at 300º cooked over apple, peach and pear wood from our own trees.  Some was green and water soaked to infuse a smoky flavor. Controlling the fire, especially a wood fire, keeping it low, is not easy. Very easy to make a fire too hot. I’ve started keeping an extra stash of wet wood for such occasions.

Served with white beans, potatoes, baked tomatoes. Not much left over.

My first ever post. What a nice city, San Francisco. To have fresh peaches and apricots and “deep summer” produce in June, and great bread all over town — much better than NYC. Found myself in aquariums: SF Aquarium downtown and Exploratorium at Golden Gate Park, where I was a bit shocked at the $25 entrance fee. Quite self-selecting, but people were sure enjoying.