Now, Chambord is curious because it has such a strong, sweet flavor, and yet a relatively weak alcohol content. It is too dense to drink straight and yet not strong enough to stand on its own as a drink. In any drink it will end up an accent— like enjoying a piece of raspberry dark chocolate. The dark chocolate melts in your mouth, and after you’ve chewed for a second or two, you’re treated to the raspberry flavor, which complements the chocolate. And, I think for this reason, many of the recipes play off the relationship between raspberries and creamy chocolate. Yet, inexplicably, these recipes have uncomfortably sexually explicit names, such as the Wet Pussy and Sexual Chocolate. I enjoy my chocolate and cream, of course, but not in my drinks. I searched harder to find something that fit my pantry and my taste, and at last I found one called “The Bloodbath.” I had (almost) every ingredient— some Cabernet Savingnon, a bit of Chambord and a splash of cranberry juice. The results were spectacular.

The Cabernet was Three Buck Chuck from Trader Joe’s. The juice was unsweetened blueberry pomegranate juice, and being a dark and subtly sweet juice, it complemented the raspberry flavor very well. Though I am no wine snob, initially I was uneasy about wine cocktails. Something about the whole process seems a little unholy. I am glad that I made the plunge though. The dark, sweet flavors mixed together to form a deliciously wintry and heavy cocktail of which I drank quite a few.

With a short shelf life of six months and a particular flavor, Chambord is by no means a bar staple. By its packaging alone, this liqueur cannot be ignored. If you find yourself in possession of Chambord, take the time to use it to its full potential. If you do not think “The Bloodbath” is to your taste, try it over vanilla ice cream or one of the more complicated recipes in which it can be used. I am sure that it won’t disappoint.

______________________

Photo courtesy of www.nicks.com

(http://www.nicks.com.au/upload/image/image_20063171701010732.jpg)

Being a vegetarian was not a fad or trend when I was growing up. Judaism applauds eating meat. It’s actually looked upon as a “mitzvah” (good deed) to eat meat on the Sabbath and most of the high holy days. I’m not the type of vegetarian who can tell you how long I’ve been “veg.” “It’s been six years and fourth months since I last ate processed chicken nuggets” is what many would say, while my response is more along the lines of “I haven’t had meat in a while but if you put me in front of kosher lox, caviar, or freshly smoked pastrami at a family occasion, I’ll eat it.” If the animal was killed, processed, bought, prepared, and is sitting there staring at me while my grandmother and aunts beg me to “just eat” then what’s the harm in saying “okay?” However, I require my meats to be kosher, since the ethical treatment and process of killing the animals in Judaism is somewhat more pain-free than other means.

Many claim that eating meat doesn’t ruin the environment. Additionally, many don’t understand how the treatment of animals directly affects the meat that they’re eating. It takes more energy and space to produce meat than to grow “vegetarian” produce. Feeding animals foods such as processed corn when they’re supposed to eat only real corn and grass, for example, can infect them with E. coli and probably those consuming the infected meat. The conditions alone that the corporations place the animals in can cause infections within the animals. I don’t believe the animals need to live a life of suffering.

Marlana: For me, vegetarianism was a conscious choice. Like many other “lifestyle choices” one option is not the best for everyone else on the planet, and I do not see my personal mission to convert the entire planet to a vegetarian lifestyle. I decided to give up meat a little over a year ago when I came to Rutgers. This decision coincided with the first time I took full control of my diet. One of the things that I have learned about myself is that when I let my behavior go unchecked, I quickly spiral out of control. I can spend hours and hours in front of the TV, mindlessly crunching on potato chips, or staring at the computer screen for hours on end. Becoming a vegetarian has introduced mindfulness to my eating and to my life.

When I say mindfulness, I mean that I consider my food–its ingredients, where they come from, and their quality– before I put it into my shopping cart or my mouth. I know that this is not exclusively a trait of vegetarianism, and indeed I have known vegans who mindlessly munch on potato chips and soy ice cream. For me, however, it helps. It helps me spend most of my shopping time in the produce section, thinking of which fruits and vegetables contain which nutrients, instead of the pre-made frozen meals that constituted many of my meals growing up. The grocery bill looks a lot lighter when meat is taken out of the equation as well. My options at fast food restaurants are also slim. While I rarely deprive myself of not-so-healthy treats when I want them, since becoming a vegetarian I have wanted them less. My skin has cleared up, and some excess weight seems to have disappeared. Mindfulness, I am sure, not as much as vegetarianism has helped me there.

One of the reasons that I continue to be a vegetarian is it provides me convenience. My choices in restaurants, when shopping, when cooking, are much more limited without meat. There are whole sections of menus and stores and cookbooks that I can simply breeze over. Because there are so many options with vegetables and grains, I don’t even mind skipping the chicken, pork and beef. My life is simply easier without them. Though later in my life I may choose to eat meat again, right now I am sure my body is thanking me for the fat sandwiches, cheese steaks, and fried chicken I have barred from my diet.

_______________________

Photo courtesy of Max Zandstein. All rights reserved by the artist.

When and how did you start to identify as a food connoisseur?

Ever since I came to the realization that I could not stay within the confinements of my traditional culture and started to explore other cultures and their food. Also, everyone always had “chocolate” as their favorite flavor and “go-to-snack” and mine was vanilla (with the beans, of course). I was (and still am) known as the girl who can eat almost anything and everything in any quantity, basically a human pig, which might sound degrading but it ended up driving my plans to write about food.  Plus, I prefer watching Giada de Laurentiis to Jersey Shore, but then again who wouldn’t?

How does one eat like a food connoisseur while living the college life?

It’s all about looking for good deals, the holes in the walls (they have the best food and the cheapest prices), COUPONS, and trying to make dishes on your own instead of paying for it at a restaurant. Cooking with friends and watching others cook has also been a great way to expand my horizons.

What are some of your favorite food memories from Rutgers?

Most of my best food memories from Rutgers don’t come from the crazy Thursdays nights with watered down beer and pizza but rather from cooking with friends on campus. Two of my favorite food memories were when we made fresh noodles with sautéed Chinese vegetables and watched Tampopo together and when we made fresh risotto with mushrooms.

Since this is your last term, is there anything you’d like to do at Rutgers that you’ve yet to have the chance to do?

I really want to try a fat sandwich…on my last day of classes after I’ve worked out all semester and haven’t consumed any sodium for a week. I’d also like to graduate haha. This will be my first graduation since 8th grade because I left high school mid-11th to start college early. I haven’t actually “graduated” high school or community college. And it would be fun to bike down College Ave. during rush hour on the sidewalks and make it to class on time after picking up a few people under my bike tires.

How have you grown as a person during your time at Rutgers?

My first semester at Rutgers I took “Literature Across Borders”, which helped me build my writing skills. Writing at JVP has only made my writing skills stronger by working with a community of writers and realizing ways to improve. From founding a group at Rutgers Hillel, JAQs, to meeting people who have been more than just a springboard to better paths in life, Rutgers has provided me with tangible growth. I got out of Rutgers what I made of it.

Tell me about JAQs.

JAQs is a new group at Rutgers Hillel that I founded that aims to bond the Jewish community, its queer members, and allies in a safe space. Everyone is welcome to join JAQs in its events regardless of sexual orientation, gender orientation, race or religion. This will be JAQs first semester of many to come. I have been in charge of the marketing and branding of the group but, more importantly, via for its success because of the crucial timing that JAQs has been put into place. Recently, Rabbis have signed a document announcing the importance of accepting Jewish LGBTQ members into their community. While this step was prerequisite to any major change, it will take years for Jewish LGBTQ members to earn the same respect as any other Jew. Rutgers Hillel provides a safe space for its LGBTQ members and, I’m hoping, will inspire other Hillels nationally to take the same steps.

What sort of role has Judaism played in your life and what sort of role does it play today?

Judaism is an identity. It’s always been the identity that I feel closest to and is a part of me. I fall into many stereotypes of being Jewish plus never forget that I am Jewish. It’s something that my grandparents and parents have instilled in me- a love for my identities.

So, what prompted you to leave high school to start college early?

High school was too bland; I felt like I wasn’t learning enough of the things that I really needed to learn to get me far in life. I wanted to get closer to starting my career so college was my first step.

What’d you think of the GED’s and what did taking them make you think of high school?

Everyone made it seem like they were going to be hard. When I finally went to take the test I was with such a mix of people, some who actually needed directions on how to use the calculators, that I knew I would pass. Taking the GEDs made me wish I didn’t bother with my last 2-3 years of high school at all.

How did you start thinking about leaving high school and what finally got you to get up and go?

My parents were really supportive of the idea. I was commuting an hour each way to school in 11th grade and they could tell it wasn’t worth it. My mother skipped her senior year and went straight to NYU so was more than willing to allow me to do the same, minus the NYU part.

What brought you to Rutgers?

The spirit, open-mindedness, and it’s quite close to where I live.

And what inspired you to want to get involved with marketing/branding in the first place? What other sorts of aspirations have you had and continue to have?

I have always been fascinated by what advertising can do to its target markets. I grew up around business men and women, for the most part, and aspired to be on of them eventually. Aside from the business-oriented friends and family I know I have always wanted to be a doctor. I would read all of my mother’s books on medical procedures, diseases, and abnormalities and wished that I could specialize in treating medical abnormalities. In high school I let go of my entrepreneurial dreams and was set on becoming a plastic surgeon (I watched Dr. 90210 and Nip/Tuck quite a bit).

What happened to those medical dreams and why plastic surgery?

The medical dreams are no longer the dream I plan to pursue. Going to medical school doesn’t fit into my life plan at the moment. Some things stay better as dreams than as a lived reality. I’ve always liked the idea of reconstruction. I wanted to be the one who cast models and then realized that my ability to point out imperfections, slight ones particularly, would go well with my dreams of going to medical school. I figured that if I could eat dinner while watching plastic surgeries and still be enticed it might be the perfect fit.

What sort of business men/women did you grow up around and what appealed to you about business?

My grandfather was a businessman and my older cousin is in marketing. My grandpa was always my role model, someone I wanted to impress and one to grow like.

What was it about your grandfather that made him a role model?

Everything. (Who wouldn’t say that about their role model?) He came to the US from Poland after WWII and made more than a life for himself and his wife and future family. He started his own business and was heavily involved in politics: he served on the Security Council.

You’re interested in marketing and branding, but you’re also a poli-sci minor. How’d that happen?

In my junior year I had an epiphany that I cannot go out as an entrepreneur and/or marketing & branding strategist without making use of politics.

What prompted you to abandon the desire to go to medical school?

I was seriously considering med school until I started college (after I skipped my senior year of high school). Once I abandoned high school I knew I wasn’t cut out for school at the moment. Also, the more I read into business and marketing the more I realized it’s what I really wanted to do at the moment.

And how is it that you ended up writing for the JVP?

I got involved with the JVP after I saw a single sign for the JVP in the Van Dyke basement. I contacted Alex and immediately attended a meeting and started writing asap.

would try

I found that H Mart (NY and NJ locations) was the closest Asian grocery store with an acceptable amount of options for affordable stone bowls and trays. Before using the stone bowl I cured it by slowly bringing salty water (1/3 full) in the bowl to a boil. After spilling the salty water out, I brushed the bowl with olive oil to eliminate any cracks or breakage, though sesame oil is obviously the preferred oil of choice.

I cooked glutinous rice ahead of time in a rice cooker but realized that it was too sticky, despite soaking it beforehand. I sautéed daikon, mushrooms, carrots, spinach, sprouts, and zucchini, all separate, on high heat with olive oil and a lot of garlic. The daikon, mushrooms, carrots, and zucchini were all julienned. My knife skills were no match for julienning vegetables. Once the last ingredient was almost fully cooked and the house reeked of garlic, I set the stone bowl directly on top of high heat. I poured the rice in quickly, but somewhat eloquently, and placed the vegetables around the bowl. Last, but not least, I cracked an egg over the top. Amanda, a Korean, was probably scared to try my version of bibimbap, the version that wouldn’t seal my esophagus.

The bibimbap was healthy, quick, and fun to make. The rice may have been too sticky, thanks to my choice of rice, but once it got crispy on the bottom I couldn’t complain. Aside from gochujang, Korean chili pepper paste, I’m sure that the only tip I can get that would make this dish any better would be sesame.

I’ve spent many a-weekend at the food court in the mall due to lack of creativity. I could have claimed the local diner as my summer home because there was no place else to go. There was a time when a chili dog hardly seemed like an adversary. This was all before I realized food has calories. But even though I know my diet isn’t healthy, I can’t seem to curb my partiality to salty, soggy French fries. Jersey has a variety of greasy, fat-saturated, cardio-vascular debilitating food joints to choose from. Such places are even capable of subtracting any nutritional value from salad by tossing it in a bottle of dressing, coating it with a bag of shredded cheese, and sprinkling 4 or 5 handfuls of bacon bits over the top.

I wonder if my palate is able to discern what good food really is. (After all, my fondest memories of childhood include Hostess snack cakes and pork roll and cheese sandwiches).  I assume Brie cheese and Crepes Suzette to be the height of sophistication, but I am not one to judge if they are prepared correctly. I categorize food as being delicious or not delicious, so any flavors that please my taste-buds usually receive my unsophisticated palate’s seal of approval.

It wasn’t until I started college that I started expanding my palate, opening my mind to different cultures and their food. I made friends with people who come from families and cultures that love preparing food, serving food, and eating food. Good food. My Indian friend introduced me to naan, biryani, samosas, and tandoori chicken. When I first ate dinner at her house, her mom prepared the mild version of what her family usually eats. My mouth still burned, but my friend thought the food was bland. She says that spice is flavor in Indian cooking. My feeling is that the spice detracts from the taste.  I asked what was in each pot before I helped myself to a portion size I wouldn’t want to finish. My friend provided the Indian name of each food item, and then broke it down into terms my unsophisticated palate could understand. ‘Paneer’ is cheese; ‘biryani’ is saffron rice with beef and spices; ‘naan’ is flat, oval bread cooked in a tandoor (clay oven).  Naan was my salvation, and not just because I am of carbivorous nature. The bread soaked up the heat from the chilies and other spices used in the food. I tried to pretend that the spice didn’t bother me, but the tears in my eyes reflected my discomfort and inexperience with the food.

I was impressed watching my friend’s mom stirring spices into a big pot on the stove like it was a witch’s cauldron. She was more like a chemist than a cook; she said that blending spices is a very delicate matter because “each spice helps you digest your food better.” Ginger prevents dyspepsia, garlic reduces cholesterol, and turmeric helps stomach ulcers and keeps your skin looking healthy. She knew everything about the ingredients she cooked with and how they can better enhance the quality of her food.

My friend’s ability to identify each individual spice as she was eating was just as impressive, if not more so, as her mom’s spice magic. I am envious of my friend, her culture, and her deep appreciation and love of good food and flavors that has been passed onto her by her family. She appreciates the food of other cultures, especially cultures that use the spices familiar to her mother’s cooking in a new and different way. My family passed onto me the habit of gorging at all-you-can-eat family buffets. When we ate at home, dinner was English muffin pizzas or tacos from a box. When we went out to eat we frequented diners, buffets, and the occasional popular chain restaurant. Quality never mattered to my family, only quantity and price. I’ve never seen my family ever really take the time to enjoy or taste the food they were eating. I come from a family of speed eaters. We eat too fast to notice we’re full or even how many helpings we’ve had. My mom comes from a large family and the motto she lives by is “if you don’t eat fast, you don’t eat.” So we’ve always eaten like we’re competing against each other for the last piece of fried chicken in the bucket.

I felt embarrassed when I first ate dinner with my friend’s family, because I eat fast. My contrived effort to eat slowly failed. I certainly ate at a steadier pace than I’m accustomed to, but I still cleaned my plate before some of her family members had even begun eating. The family was always in conversation, and not just in between bites. Sometimes they would completely forget about the food in front of them because they were wrapped up in their conversation. I occasionally took a breath between bites and joined in; that is, when I wasn’t gulping water. Eating out with friends has always been difficult because I can’t have a conversation while there is food in front of me; I just have to eat it.

My friend has taught me that food is an experience. The joy of eating isn’t just about the food on your plate, but it’s also about the people around you, your surroundings, and the conversations you have with good friends. Before my friend invited me to her house for dinner, she took me to an Ethiopian restaurant. This was the first ‘un-Americanized’ restaurant I had ever been to. She told me it was “the best food I ever had.” I was skeptical. Somehow ‘the best food’ and ‘Ethiopian’ didn’t seem to coincide. I made a slightly inappropriate joke Billy Crystal made in When Harry Met Sally that was something to this effect: “Ethiopian food? Are we going to be served empty plates?”

I couldn’t understand the menu. It was written in English, but anything beyond chicken fingers and pork-fried rice proved too complex and overwhelming for me, so my friend ordered for us. We split the Cote D’Ivoire wrap – chicken with a ginger mayonnaise – and a combination of stewed vegetables. The waitress brought us a plate of food that resembled a painter’s palette – globs of green, yellow, brown, and orange on a round, thin piece of Injera bread that covered the plate. ‘Injera’ is a sourdough flatbread, and the ‘globs’ are called ‘wats,’ or thick stews of vegetables. My friend began ripping the Injera to scoop up the various stews she ordered. I watched her savor the bite of food, how she closed her eyes and must have allowed the flavors to dance on her tongue before swallowing. The ‘globs’ of colors didn’t whet my appetite; I decided to just eat half of the wrap. I didn’t just eat the wrap, I inhaled it, and then had to restrain myself from eating my friend’s half. She was amazed at how my teeth never released the food from their grasp. “Do you even remember what it tastes like?” she asked. I actually don’t. I’m sure I tasted chicken, mayonnaise, and the wrap, but I can’t describe to you why the wrap was delicious because I didn’t take the time to appreciate its flavors. She convinced me to try some of the Injera and wats and told me to take my time eating them. I dipped a small piece of Injera in the yellow wot since it was the most appealing. I did what my friend did: closed my eyes and savored the flavors sitting on my tongue. She had to tell me what the ingredients were – chickpeas and dumplings in a light sauce – but I knew that I liked it. I could taste the sweetness and the spice in the sauce, and I could feel the bread’s sponge-like texture.

I’ve been training my unsophisticated palate to crave sophisticated ingredients. Or at least better ones. The key is to savor food and to treat eating new cuisines as exciting experiences.  Having a sophisticated palate doesn’t make someone a snob, as long as they are able to succumb to the occasional hot dog. Anthony Bourdain says that man cannot live on foie gras alone. In my case, my taste-buds were in need of a change. My palate has tasted different corners of the nation and the globe, while still remaining true to Jersey fare. I will always hold the chili dog in my heart, but my unsophisticated palate longs to broaden its horizons.

Mac ‘n Cheese:

My mother’s mac ‘n cheese, which I nicknamed “birthday pasta” over a decade ago, will always be superior to all others, but E.A.T. Café’s (1064 Madison Avenue) is easily one of my next favorites. Despite the price tag of an outstanding sixteen dollars, the dish is worthwhile. The macaroni and cheese is gushing with cheese and cream that is clotted to the perfect texture. It is paired with a faultless penne that denies any flavors an escape route. The toasted bread crumbs on top give a delicate crunch to an already perfect macaroni and cheese dish.

Smoothie:

Even though McDonald’s offers cheap milkshakes and Jamba Juice, which smells like oranges and wheatgrass as soon as you walk in, I prefer Terri NYC (60 West 23^rd). Just a block away from my office, Terri makes it nearly impossible to resist walking over for a quick, healthy smoothie (and a vegan sandwich). Terri NYC creates unique smoothie and juice combinations. While many sound too bizarre to taste, I took a chance and ordered a Green Power smoothie. The Green Power smoothie is one of their bestsellers: it costs less than seven dollars, and its color is true to its name. The concoction includes kale, pear, banana, almond butter, and soymilk. That’s it. It’s sweet, hearty, and the perfect breakfast smoothie to get in all the protein, potassium, and other vitamins and minerals to jumpstart a day. Thankfully, by downing the Green Power smoothie more than just a handful of times, it is easy to alter the taste and ingredients at home for an even cheaper price.

Bagels:

New Jersey’s best bagels are by the shore, not by Seaside Heights were Snooki resides, but at Hot Bagel Bakery (67 Monmouth Road, Oakhurst). The owner is an Italian from Brooklyn who knows how to bring the New York taste to Jersey. The fresh scent of the bagels penetrates my car window as soon as I pull into the small plaza’s parking lot. As a child my favorites were their salt, egg, and plain bagels, but now I’ve grown to love their whole wheat, cinnamon raisin, onion, and garlic bagels as well. The garlic bagel has perfectly roasted garlic on one side that doesn’t stick to your fingers or fall off into the wax paper protecting the treasured meal.

New York claims it has the most authentic bagels and I can’t disprove that declaration. After trying many bagels ranging from the Upper West Side to Midtown I have narrowed my favorite bagel shops down to two: Vic’s Bagel Bar (544 3^rd Avenue) and Kossar’s Bialys (367 Grand Street). Kossar’s Bialys is the oldest bialy bakery in the United States and specializes in bialys, although their bagels are just as delicious. When I walked into Kossar’s I thought I had the wrong address since it was dark and completely empty inside. They put more emphasis on the oven in back and all the racks in front with empty trays than Vic’s Bagel Bar. Vic’s Bagel Bar was established within the past year and is welcoming with its bright lights and white interior. It features a “bar” where you choose fresh ingredients to blend to shmear on your bagel. The cream cheese creations are usually as expensive, if not more, than the bagel itself. The wide range of options is inspiring to make cheaper versions of the spreads at home- it’s an easy way to make a bagel somewhat healthier. The bagels from Vic’s are freshly made in an open kitchen where a few men make loads of them. Vic’s features a flat bagel, or “flagel,” which I believe is the perfect bagel for a spread since the flavors aren’t lost in between all the chewy, thick carbohydrates.

Cheese:

Artisanal Cheese (2 Park Avenue) has the widest range of cheeses available for purchase to-go, or to eat-in at the old-style restaurant. When I stopped into Artisanal Cheese it was peak time for business professionals making it a lively, fun place to eat a heavy meal. Those behind the cheese counter are helpful and educated about every aspect of each cheese. After trying about twelve of their cheeses I walked out with a quarter of a pound of Idiazabal, a Spanish sheep’s cheese, and ate it within a few hours. It’s hard for me to not choose any of the Abaye cheeses but Artisanal’s staff made it easier to walk out with an even better cheese than I expected.

Vermont may not be known for its cheddar but it’s the best. While in Vermont I stopped by a local farm for some raw milk and fresh cheddar at a local cheese shop. Each of the cheeses that I purchased had a perfect tangy bite and texture. I used an entire block of a one year aged premium cheddar, a small block of garlic cheddar, and the raw milk to make a roux for a pound of whole wheat pasta. Unfortunately, traveling to Vermont when I crave the best roux wouldn’t be environmentally friendly. Artisanal, which is an easy ride away from New Brunswick, is a great alternative though they cannot provide raw milk or cheddar at the same prices as Vermont.

Beet Salad:

“Salads” would be a more general category which encompasses all options. For me summers require beet salads. The color and sweetness of beets fit into the season, with the exception of the stains on white pants. Counter (105 First Avenue), a lesbian owned vegetarian hot-spot in the East Village, boasts fabulous appetizers. The beet salad at Counter is smooth and perfectly roasted with radicchio, toasted pistachios, balsamic, and New York chevre, a local and sustainable dairy with no animal rennet.

The best alternative to Counter’s roasted beet salad was one I helped make in Vermont, which had organic beets picked from the farm I stayed at, and fresh Vermont goat cheese. The salad was just as beautiful as the location of the picnic: Hamilton Falls, a waterfall with freezing cold (yes, it was really cold) water from a snow cap. Who would have known that a simple boiled beet salad works perfectly after a quick swim in a chilly waterfall?

On the other hand, preparing your own food is not without its drawbacks. For one, unless you are a professional chef, the odds of you preparing an exceptionally delicious meal are slim to none. For another, if you are cooking for yourself, you will almost certainly have to buy more of several ingredients than you plan to use for any one dish, leaving you with less variety and more leftovers. But perhaps the worst thing about choosing to cook for yourself is having to start from scratch every time you’re hungry. Imagine coming home from a long day at work. Your boss has been riding you all day, your brain is fried, and you’ve just endured a stress-filled hour and a half commute standing up on a smelly, crowded rush hour commuter train. How much do you really feel like breaking out the measuring cups and preheating the oven? I’ll wager you don’t.

In times like these, I turn to one of the easiest meals I know how to make: the “poor man’s casserole”. It is exceedingly simple to make, but fresh, delicious, cheap, healthy, and quick. Here’s what you do:

1. Preheat the oven to 400 degrees (sorry, this step is unavoidable).
2. Grease an oven safe pan with olive oil.
3. Clean and dice a couple root vegetables (carrots, garlic, potatoes, onions, yams, etc.) and a couple links of sausage (any kind) into large, similarly sized chunks and mix them all together in the pan.
4. Sprinkle some more olive oil, salt, pepper, and a few pieces of fresh rosemary (if you’ve got it) over the top.
5. Cover and bake for 30-40 minutes.

While the meal bakes, whip up a salad (for instance, Boston lettuce, Cannelloni beans and fried mushrooms), slice up a baguette and open a nice light red wine, a Pinot Noir if you’ve got it. This dish will leave you satisfied. It takes less than an hour to make. It’s healthy, hearty and extremely adaptable. And best of all, it requires nothing more complex than the ability to cut vegetables into big chunks. You can make it with things you have lying around your kitchen. If you’re not trying to be a chef Boyardee tonight, throw this dish together and marvel at how easy it is to make a good Irish meal. Cheers.

1 package of small to medium sized mushrooms*

3-4 tbsp of butter

1/4 to 1/3 cup Italian style bread crumbs

Salt

Pepper

Basil

*  Baby Bella

Pre-heat oven to 375 degrees. Scrub the mushrooms lightly under cold water and separate the stems from the caps. Place the caps onto a cookie sheet or shallow baking dish, face up. Chop the stems of the mushrooms until exceptionally fine. Melt butter in a bowl and then combine chopped with the stems and bread crumbs. Stir the mixture until the consistency is paste-like. Add salt, pepper and basil to your personal taste preference. Stuff the mushrooms using all the stuffing. Sprinkle any extra stuffing on the pan around the mushrooms. Cook for 20-30 minutes or until stuffing appears to be golden brown. Wait 5 minutes before moving mushrooms to a serving dish. Serve hot and enjoy!

As I listen over the phone to the sounds of orders being yelled out and cappuccino machines buzzing at extremely loud frequencies, I wish it wasn’t snowing so I could conduct this interview in person. Finally the sounds dissipate just long enough for me to ask Bruno Pascale, owner of Café Z at the Zimmerli Art Museum at Rutgers University, some questions.

Within the first five minutes of talking to Bruno it’s readily apparent how accurately he matches the image of the old-school New Jersey Italian-American— from the classic “how you doin’?” accent portrayed so famously on The Sopranos to the hard working mentality. Bruno’s not the only Pascale in the food business. His brother attended culinary school at around the same time he did, although Bruno, seven years his brother’s junior, was a little more ambitious. While Bruno was born and raised in Newark, New Jersey, his parents came from Salerno, Italy— a small town just off the Amalfi Coast.

Bruno is no mobster though, even if he has spent some time in a few pizzerias. He’s been working in the food business now for close to 30 years, both as a chef and at the managerial level.  Given that, it’s surprising to know that Bruno’s only 45. Most men who have business aspirations usually have to wait until they’re in their 40s before they even dream of opening up their own business. In the current economy owning a business requires more money than the average income of a 40 year old can support. Bruno owned his own pizzeria when he was only 17; most seventeen year olds I know don’t even own the car they drive.

The more I talk with Bruno the more I learn just how well versed he is in how to cook and prepare food. His talent also lies in arranging a menu and laying out a restaurant to give off the proper vibe. Café Z maintains a relaxing environment where you can grab a quick cup of coffee or sandwich amidst the hustle-and-bustle of students running in and out of class. Bruno explains to me how the best way to run a successful business is to listen to the customer and to always be honest with them. “If the cook dropped the steak, just apologize and tell them the cookdropped the steak and you’re making a new one.” Coming from a typical Italian household myself, where cooking is the norm, I expected his mother or even his father to be the influence from which his cooking roots came. Almost bashfully Bruno explained how when he was 13 he saw the Pillsbury Doughboy and from then on always wanted to be a chef. My laughter is luckily muffled by the sound of another cappuccino being made.

The moment I learn from Bruno that he owned his very own business at 17, I immediately think back to only two years ago when I was that age. All of a sudden everything I’ve done in my life to this point seems to be brought into perspective. What really have I done? Sure I’m going to college and have lofty goals for my future, but what have I really done? Certainly nothing on par with owning a business. Sitting here, I’m 19; two years older than Bruno when he ran a pizzeria. I’ve never even held a job for longer than six months. The sort of self-confidence and determination it takes to handle that pressure at that age is nothing short of inspiring to me.

My inspirational zeal is short lived and is quickly replaced with sadness. When I ask Bruno how a seventeen-year-old comes to open and run his own pizzeria, he explains that he came to acquire the business when his father died suddenly. Bruno had enough money in the bank to keep the business afloat in its fledgling months. When speaking of the success of his restaurants and other achievements, Bruno’s voice is deep and filled with pride. While Bruno proudly admits that he’s never had to sell a business under negative circumstances, his voice grows hush and regretful as he lists the demands of owning a business. Success has a price, Bruno admits, and for him it was not seeing his kids grow up.

Bruno’s regrets are swiftly pushed aside as he shifts gears and gets right back to business, calling out the line orders to Javy, his assistant at the café. I wait on hold for a minute or so while Bruno handles some food orders at the café, maybe scheduling an interview at lunch with a café operator wasn’t one of my best ideas; instead of dwelling on the past the conversation now drifts towards the future and Bruno’s plans.

When asked what he would do if he had millions of dollars to spend in the restaurant business, Bruno doesn’t talk about opening up fine dining in New York City. He talks about fast food. “Imagine going to a fast food restaurant and instead of getting a Big Mac at the drive-thru you get an order of spaghetti…It could be healthy too. Instead of getting a soda, you get a carrot juice or something like that.” Original ideas these days seem to be few and far between, but drive-thru spaghetti is definitely an original idea.

While Bruno does want to be an owner of a franchise of hybrid fine dining-fast food restaurants, he doesn’t want to be some heard-of but never seen CEO. Business success matters to him, but at the same time he wants to be able to walk into the restaurant and talk to his customers. He wants to be a man of the people! Think Dave Thomas Wendy’s mixed with a little bit of Emril Lagasse’s flair and charisma.

As I end my conversation with Bruno, I’m torn between two feelings: inspiration and utter fear. To be as young as Bruno is and yet have so much experience in the business world is impressive. However, the sheer amount of sacrifices he’s made is troubling. Walking away from my time with Bruno I’m left asking myself, “Is it possible to truly achieve personal and professional success?”

Two visions of my future suddenly flash in front of my eyes. I’ve got a BMW in the driveway, a wife waiting for me to come home, and two boys in little league— all in some beautiful suburban town. Of course the job that supports this life consumes 80 hours each week and in a year half of my possessions are gone and the only time I see my kids is on the court appointed weekends from the divorce settlement. Then I see the other option. I’, coming home from my job at the local supermarket with the night’s dinner, bologna sandwiches, for my loving wife and daughter. I’m happy as can be, until my family and I are evicted for not being to pay the rent on time. While these visions are extreme, they’re not impossible. The trouble arises in trying to show affection for your family while not letting your professional ambition slip. It’s also difficult to maintain a stable financial income while not neglecting your own personal life or your family. Either way, I know one thing: I’ll be looking for Bruno’s chain of “healthy” fast food restaurants in the future and you should too.

What is “whole” grain then? “Whole” refers to the fact that in the milling process the entire grain- endosperm, bran, and germ- is used. The brown color is derived from the shell which is not removed and also contains the majority of its amazing fiber and vitamin content, essential to a healthy diet. In traditional “white” milling the grain is refined, bleached, stripped of the fiber, and often enriched to restore some nutritional value. Refined grains in the body become strands of glucose or sugar, which your body burns fast, and in no time you’re hungry again. Fiber from whole grains helps to slow the breakdown of carbohydrates, helping you feel full longer and regulate your digestion. Whole grain also has more magnesium, iron, and protein than refined or “white” bread and pasta.

Courtesy of Max Zandstein

Companies are trying to cash in on this craze, so consumers must be wary of labels. The truth lies in the nutrition facts and ingredient list. Don’t be lured by “made with whole wheat,” “stone-ground,” or the brown color of the product. For example, at the top of its ingredient list of whole grain pasta, it should read, “whole durum wheat flour,” not “durum wheat flour.” When a label says “multi-grain” it may contain several types of grains such as oats, wheat, and rice, but they may all be refined.

However, whole grain products are not always made with 100% whole grain; they often contain white flour to help develop the dough. Also, if any form of sugar, corn syrup, honey, or molasses is high on the ingredient list put it back on the shelf.  The nutritional facts tell all: a true whole grain product will contain high amounts of fiber which come directly from the whole grain. A rule of thumb for whole wheat bread is that it should contribute at least 3 grams of fiber towards your daily intake. Coloring and fiber can be added to dough to make it appear to be whole wheat- which is why it is important to read the ingredients.

Tips:

Whole grain products are healthy, for the most part, but they are pricey. My recommendation is to stock up when whole grain bread is on sale and throw a loaf in the freezer – it won’t go stale for months, if properly wrapped. Always double wrap and remove excess air from packaging when freezing to deter freezer burn. I always keep my bread or tortillas in the freezer and take slices as I need them.

If you’re health or carb-conscious and have no other choice but white bread, eat it with butter. Contrary to popular belief, it is not better to eat plain white bread because it will convert quickly to sugars. The fat in the butter coats the carbohydrates and takes your stomach longer to process. However, it is hard to substitute some of the essential vitamins and fiber that you get from whole grain foods.  If you are new to the whole grain craze, try substituting one serving a day with a whole grain food. Whole grain pasta has a nuttier flavor that adds depth to an otherwise ordinary meal.

If you are lost in the sea of whole grains, always turn to the nutrition label for guidance. The FDA does provide some protection and laws in defining what “whole grain” is- but it is ultimately left to consumer discretion.

Courtesy of Max Zandstein