We picked up the cake in the morning and I got my first glimpse of the bakery’s new Spring Street neighbor: The Best Chocolate Cake in the World – the first American location of São Paolo-based mini-chain O Melhor Bolo de Chocolate de Mundo. Can’t yet confirm the veracity of their claim, but the name alone seems an almost too easy set up for some snarky commentary in this town.

According to W Magazine, it’s destined to become the statement cake of the decade — succeeding Lady M Cake Boutique’s Mille Crêpes cake.  I have on good authority that it also makes a fine birthday cake.

For his part, Joshua seemed to enjoy his birthday cake and party — save for the 30 seconds immediately after he attempted to extinguish his candle… with his bare hands.  Ouch.

I’ll admit: once I got out of the habit of posting a blog entry every day, it became ever easier to just abandon the project entirely.  But lately, I’ve begun to (re)consider: perhaps the best way to ease back into this process would be to dash out these episodes, as the mood or inspiration strikes, sometimes including photos and at times, not.  And just see how it goes.

This is what I’ll write today.

To recap the entire past year would be an exercise requiring more time and energy that I’m ready to dedicate now.  But to fill in the most recent highlights:  I spent two late spring weeks in Spain, eating and drinking (and photographing) my way through Barcelona, Bilbao, San Sebastián, Sevilla, Córdoba, Granada and Madrid.  (Glorious!)  In mid-June, I had another birthday (somewhat less so), followed in rapid succession by the commemoration of several milestones: a 70th birthday, a funeral, a wedding, and a 50th anniversary.

And tonight I sit in my apartment on the eve of little Joshua’s first birthday, assessing the 15 pounds of chicken wings I just purchased to prepare for the celebration tomorrow.  (Quite the grisly scene of fowl carnage it is… so you see: sometimes the lack of photographs is a very good thing.)  For the marinade, I’ve settled upon Gourmet’s recipe for “Asian barbecue sauce,” even as its lack of specificity strikes me as strange.  I’ve never come across a recipe for “European sauce,” after all.

Last week, I read through Aimee Bender’s The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake, about a girl who discovers she can taste emotions in food — specifically the feelings of those preparing it.  I picked up the book having been intrigued by its premise after catching an interview with the author on NPR.

If this weren’t surrealist fiction, if this were at all possible, what impressions would my family and friends sense in these chicken wings, lingering beneath the tangy hoisin and sweet shaoxing wine?

Welcome to the world, Joshua!

We decided to pack in early after a head-scratching encounter with one local woman and her chicken coop, during which we received some serious misinformation about the normal egg laying schedule of hens. (6 eggs a day? We may be city folk, but we’re not that gullible.)

The eastern shore of Cayuga Lake hosts just two active wineries compared to over a dozen along the western edge. Although we were given (more) dubious information about how the Cayuga County-side farmers historically have been less willing to sell their land for use as vineyards, a more probable explanation for the discrepancy is the west-to-east moving jet stream which creates a warmer (and somewhat less vine-friendly) eastern lake coast.

We stopped in for a tasting at 72-acre Long Point Winery in Aurora — the second winery to open its doors on the eastern side of Cayuga Lake, in May 2000. (King Ferry Winery was the pioneer, in 1984.)

After picking up several bottles of the whites for which the Finger Lakes region is best known, we moved on, bidding adieu to Route 90. Continuing on the scenic route home, at Ithaca’s Six Mile Creek Vineyard, we sampled and bought more award winning Riesling. That afternoon, the tasting room overlooking the sloping vine-covered hills was also hosting half a dozen greyhounds and their owners, who were at the winery for the Grapehound Wine Tour — an annual Finger Lakes hound/wine tasting event, now in its third year.

From the wine trail to the ice cream trail…

Some places are worth a stop, just because you like the looks of them. Richford’s Dairy Treat caught our eye as we made the turn onto Route 79, with its hulking black smoker parked in the front lot, and huge signs advertising BBQ chicken and 24 flavors of soft serve ice cream — mixed to order.

My creamy espresso cone did not disappoint.

As a few of you may have noticed, I have been on hiatus this past month.

After a musical Memorial Day weekend in the Pacific Northwest, I spent two glorious weeks in Hawaii, followed in rapid succession by a wedding, and jaunts to Orange County, Los Angeles and San Francisco. Locally, there was much work to do launching my community supported agriculture group’s season, a visit to Public Farm One at P.S. 1, a night of Shakespeare in the Park, a slew of birthday celebrations, a pair of sublime sushi dinners, and the Siren Music Festival in Coney Island. More, too, but you know I don’t include everything on this blog…

Oh, you wanted to see pictures, and perhaps a video or two? (Follow the links to the full flickr sets.)

P.F. 1 (Public Farm One) at P.S. 1:

San Francisco shores:

Fisherman’s Wharf, San Francisco:

Ferry Plaza Farmers Market, San Francisco:

de Young Museum & Japanese Tea Garden, San Francisco:

Conservatory of Flowers, San Francisco:

Coney Island, New York:

…and many more photos from O’ahu: Kualoa Ranch, Diamond Head, The Polynesian Cultural Center, and at Pearl Harbor, the Battleship Missouri and the USS Arizona Memorial.

I will be up in New York’s Finger Lakes region this weekend for the annual 50-mile garage sale along Route 90 — remember last August’s Highway 127 Sale through the rural South? — perhaps with some stops along the Cayuga Wine Trail, after which I hope to be able to buckle back down to the business of blogging as my summer tan lines slowly fade into memory.

The advertising campaign — full sized billboards denigrating the fictional Sarah Marshall (a somewhat bland Kristen Bell) — caused some strife with real-life Sarah Marshalls everywhere, but audiences and critics responded positively. Who can’t identify with a little heartbreak, after all?

My favorite bits — no, not what you think, dirty birds! — involved the hedonistic, pseudo-spiritual Aldous Snow (Russell Brand), who was both vacuous and almost admirable in his ruthless honesty. (Is it always the best policy?) And I’ve long been a fan of Segel, who wrote the film’s Infant Sorrow songs and the tunes for his character’s Dracula musical. We knew Segel had it in him after his “Slapsgiving” song follow-up to the legendary “Slap Bet” episode on How I Met Your Mother.

Incidentally, Segel’s HIMYM co-star Neil Patrick Harris was profiled in the Sunday Times that day, in a piece during which he referenced both Trent Reznor and Scooby-Doo…. making it very difficult for me to decide which of the two actors I like more. (Yes, yes… I know.)

On J’s rooftop (from which the Macy’s July 4th fireworks are not visible), ominous clouds began gathering overhead as our coterie huddled together, waiting for the payoff appearance of our birthday guest of honor. A successful “surprise!”… followed by a hasty retreat downstairs for a Turkish buffet.

J had outdone himself with the arrangements for the feast: hummus, falafel, Mediterranean Salad, Sigara Borek (pan fried cigar-shaped crispy pastries stuffed with feta cheese), Chicken Adana (char-grilled ground chicken seasoned with spicy red pepper) and Grilled Lamb Meatballs with Rice.

And to end things on a sweet note, another birthday cheesecake: this one from Artisanal — a rich, creamy concoction with pecan-shortbread crust and pecan praline crunch topping. Delicious!

At the risk of covering David Chang more ardently even than the staff of New York magazine (who have name-checked the award-winning chef in the magazine or on the Grub Street blog every 1-5 days since March 4 – twice on March 6, days before Ko’s online reservation system even went live), I’m putting up these last few photos of the Momofuku Ko tasting menu.

J took these photos after the Ko reservation gods smiled upon me yet again one fine Thursday morning, and we were able to get him and his wife in for dinner the week before her milestone birthday. (And yes, it was just good fortune, and not Craigslist. That, and a timely telephone conversation with SYB.)

So a few things have changed on the Ko menu since SC and I were at the restaurant two weeks earlier. For starters, Times reviewer Frank Bruni finally got in, after his well-publicized difficulties in securing one of the dozen seats. (Critic Gael Greene, too, though that’s a somewhat more complicated story. Also soopling.) It seems that the chefs are now making more of an effort to vary the menus for parties of two. At J and J’s dinner, one was served this bright pea soup with grilled crawfish tails and trumpet mushrooms, while the other had our grilled pork belly, oysters and kimchi consommé:

And instead of our wonderful seared scallop dish, J and J had deep fried soft-shell crabs — newly in season. Difficult to say which of us got the better end of things on that score. (The smoked egg with caviar, shaved foie gras and deep fried short rib crowd pleasers appear to remain unchanged.)

J and J split on dessert, too: one McDonald’s-inspired deep fried apple pie (with that luscious sour cream ice cream) and this Cereal Milk Panna Cotta, with crushed corn flakes, brittle chocolate and avocado purée, which SC and I had noticed set in front of other diners during our visit.

How many more changes need to be made to this menu before I can justify a return visit?

Catching up on Ko: three stars and a “promise of unwavering transcendence” from Bruni, a rave from Tyan Sutton of Bloomberg, Time Out’s take and a brief moment in the spotlight, courtesy of The Wall Street Journal’s Cheryl Lu-Lien Tan.

Here’s Savory Tidbits’ Momofuku Superlative Matrix — a compilation of the critical commentary on Ko in one handy spreadsheet.

Our first stop: Alice’s Tea Cup to purchase a hostess gift — and okay, one warm pumpkin scone. Just me and BY, though; the place was deemed just a bit too twee for the men, who opted to wait for us on the sidewalk. (LL later claimed not to realize that men were allowed inside the cafe.)

A few blocks north, we spied Thomas DeGeest’s cheery yellow Belgian waffle truck (license plate: WAFEL) parked in front of Fairway Market. A hot (albeit premade and imported) waffle seemed like a perfect lead-in to sorbet and gelato from Grom, which was thankfully free of lines this chilly afternoon.

One $115 parking ticket later (ouch!) we set off to meet J & J at Chelsea Market. Presented with all the food options inside, we ended up devoting the next couple of hours to a graze-fest of sorts: brownies from Fat Witch Bakery, (more) gelato samples from L’Arte Del Gelato, a surprisingly tasty lime cornmeal cookie (and an ultimately underwhelming brioche loaf) from Amys’ Bread, a perfect cappuccino from the Ninth Street Espresso kiosk…

While BY and IC considered the prepared foods display outside Buon Italia market for reinforcements to take onto their impending flight, I picked up mangoes at Manhattan Fruit Exchange -– for a curried chicken salad — and a tub of farmer’s cheese from the Ronnybrook Farm Dairy Milk Bar. (J ordered a “Moocachino” from their menu of milky treats.)

Errands done, we wound down the clock in the Meatpacking District — far less objectionable this late Sunday afternoon than on most weekend nights. As we carefully made our way along the uneven, cobblestoned streets, I entertained (or perhaps: disturbed) our guests with the storied, not-so-ancient history of the space currently housing upscale Italian restaurant Vento. Well, as Sam Sifton notes (in the last paragraph of The Times writeup), it was “a different time.” Yes indeed.

The entire neighborhood is changing. Soon, The Hog Pit will be gone, and much-loved late night fixture Florent will be shuttering its doors after 23 years on Gansevoort.

Another sign of the times: the tri-level MePa Apple Store, which opened to great fanfare last December. This corner of 14th Street and Ninth Avenue was once home to supermarket Western Beef (now on Tenth) and then to Belgian brasserie Markt (which moved to Chelsea). Unlike its predecessors, Apple probably has the deep corporate pockets to afford the reported $5-6 million annual rent. (Neighbors Moschino and Hugo Boss coming soon.)

I made the tactical error of first checking out the shiny new Macbook Airs while shopping inside for my laptop replacement. Compared against the Air’s super-slim silver sleekness, the Macbook had the heft and clunky feel of a Zack Morris cell phone. *Sigh*

The website explains the design aesthetic thusly: “Built with all authentic materials imported from China, Congee Bowery presents itself with a gorgeous intricate play of wood and marble, decorated in traditional chinese style, with a fountain of stones, real plants and real gold fish, bamboo trees and original art from the great land of China.” Mmhmm.

The Cantonese food is well-prepared and authentic, though… a favorite of my family’s, though I’ve yet to introduce them to Amazing 66 on Mott, mostly because my parents don’t make it out to Manhattan’s Chinatown much these days. Two tables were gathered tonight to celebrate J’s birthday with a traditional Chinese banquet. The dishes were part of a pre-set special menu, and followed the usual progression, beginning with a platter of cold appetizers…

…and continuing with a tureen of seafood soup, fish fillets two ways (wok-tossed and battered/fried), a T-bone steak, a steamed whole fish… and of course, no birthday feast would be complete without a whole chicken — symbolic of the phoenix, that harbinger of good fortune. (Congee Bowery serves a very good one, crisp-skinned and topped with flakes of fried garlic.)

I lost track of the parade of dishes after a while. Here’s the Jumbo Shrimp with Walnut & Broccoli, coated in sweet mayonnaise sauce:

And a dish of what I thought was abalone, but which turned out to be a mix of mushrooms (oyster, shiitake, enoki) over vegetables:

One of my favorites of the evening: Pan Fried Bean Curd with Soy Sauce. A seemingly simple preparation: squares of tofu seared just enough to impart an outer texture, while keeping the insides soft and silky.

Lobsters with Ginger & Scallion. Congee Bowery also has a version made with Butter & Cheese… which may be good, but I’m too skeptical to find out.

The banquet ended with platters of E-Fu noodles and dried scallop fried rice studded with golden raisins, which I did not have, but heard was rather delicious.

For the more adventurous eaters among you, Congee Bowery’s menu (.pdf) is chock full of exotic-sounding items that push the limits of omnivorousness: Sea Cucumber & Goose Web, Roasted Young Pigeon, Duck’s Blood with Chives, and Baked Fish Intestine In Clay Pot, anyone? Anyone?

After dinner, several of us accompanied the out-of-towners for a night stroll through SoHo — with a pit stop for rice pudding at Rice to Riches — while the New Yorkers debated the relative merits of Eileen’s and Veniero’s. The latter, though far more touristy, maintains the edge at least in terms of operating hours… at 11PM this Saturday night, there was a twenty minute wait for take-out cheesecake.

Is the impulse to go searching for treasures hard-wired in us from our hunter-gatherer days? People spend entire weekends tooling around and shopping for antiques; it’s probably a more pleasant experience when one is not operating on a couple hours’ sleep.

And though I’m forced to self-edit my possessions due to Manhattan apartment space constraints — and therefore I tend to finish these forays empty-handed — I do appreciate the idea of these old things, which in other contexts might be considered trash, being re-purposed and re-loved.