When I was visiting friends in Munich, I went gaga over a specialty at the RIndermarkt: a sandwich with a filling of crispy pig fat, called krustenbraten.  Dare I mention in the same paragraph the Jewish specialty, gribenes? This is the renderings of chicken fat, slowly poached in the oven with chopped onions until very brown and crispy and greasy. If there are any left over after you’re done making them and eating them right out of the pan, they’re delicious sprinkled on top of chopped liver. You’ve rendered the chicken fat to fry the livers in, of course, and you don’t drain the livers when you’re done.  Potato pancakes, fried in plenty of oil, with big dollops of sour cream.  A pastrami sandwich, extra fat, at Katz’s deli, washed down with a whole liter of Dr. Brown’s Black Cherry.  Sandwich de rillettes — crusty baguette filled with shreds of pork or duck, poached and preserved in its own fat.  The apple pancakes at Walker Brothers in Chicago. Swimming in clarified butter and some kind of heavenly caramel goo. Served, of course, with a side of sausages.  Apricot tart made with a streusel of butter and sugar, and served with a huge mound of heavy cream whipped together with creme fraiche.  English trifle, with tons of custard and whipped cream. Better yet, a tiramisu. {Or maybe I’ll just get a spoon and eat the mascarpone straight out of the container.}  The hot fudge sundaes at Noho Star. Preferably made with coffee ice cream. They are perfect.  The hazelnut butter at le Pain Quotidien. Why do they just leave that stuff out on the tables? Don’t they realize I have jeans to fit into???  Or the simplest and most divine of all: a good, crusty baguette, from Amy’s or Bouchon Bakery, spread thickly with the best sweet butter.  I’m going to the gym now.
In this blog, you'll find thoughts on and explorations of dining in New York and elsewhere, from the Dining staff of The Times.