The Second Avenue Deli Cookbook (21 page)

Read The Second Avenue Deli Cookbook Online

Authors: Sharon Lebewohl

3. Strain soup to remove the celery and onions. Return soup, meat, and carrots (cut into pieces) to the pot. Add noodles, and heat briefly. Divide the flanken into equal portions, and serve it in the soup.

Pepper Steak
SERVES
6
6 tablespoons corn oil
2 pounds London broil, cut into ¼-inch slices (cut slices into pieces no larger than about 2 inches square; use sirloin for a more deluxe version)
3 cups coarsely chopped onions
1 tablespoon chopped or crushed fresh garlic
2 large green peppers, cut into approximately 1½-inch chunks (be sure to remove entire spine)
3 cups plain chicken soup or stock
2 tablespoons soy sauce
¼ teaspoon pepper
2 tablespoons cornstarch
3 tablespoons cold water
1. In a large skillet, heat 2 tablespoons of the oil, and brown the steak pieces evenly (you'll need to do this in batches). Remove with a slotted spoon, and set aside in a large bowl.
2. Clean skillet, or use another one. Heat 2 tablespoons oil, and sauté the onions until nicely browned. At the last minute, add garlic, and brown quickly. Remove with a slotted spoon to a separate large bowl. Add 2 tablespoons oil, and sauté green peppers in a covered skillet, stirring occasionally to brown them evenly. Remove with a slotted spoon, and add to bowl with onions and garlic. Set aside.
3. Return steak to the skillet, add chicken soup, and bring to a boil. Reduce heat, cover, and simmer on a low flame for 35 minutes, or until meat is tender. Add the onions, garlic, and green peppers, and continue simmering, uncovered, 5 minutes longer. Add soy sauce and pepper, and stir in.
4. In a bowl, dissolve cornstarch by mixing it thoroughly in cold water; set aside. Strain contents of skillet in a colander over a large bowl. Return all solids to skillet. Retain 1 cup pan juices (discard rest), and mix it, a little at a time, with cornstarch, stirring until smooth. Pour thickened juices back into the skillet, and boil for 1 minute. Serve with rice, egg barley, or kasha varnishkes.

Honey Beef
SERVES
6
½ teaspoon ginger
½ teaspoon cinnamon
1 teaspoon poultry seasoning
2 teaspoons onion powder
2 teaspoons garlic powder
2 teaspoons salt
¼ teaspoon pepper
2½ pounds stew beef, trimmed of fat and diced into 1-inch cubes
3 tablespoons olive oil
12 large cloves garlic, peeled
4½ cups chopped onion
1 tablespoon finely chopped or crushed fresh garlic
¼ teaspoon saffron
4 cloves
¾ cup honey
½ cup water
1. In a large bowl, thoroughly combine ginger, cinnamon, poultry seasoning, onion powder, garlic powder, salt, and pepper. Toss beef cubes well in this spice mixture. Cover bowl, and refrigerate for at least 6 hours.
2. In a large skillet, heat 3 tablespoons olive oil and sauté whole garlic cloves until golden brown. Remove with a slotted spoon to a small bowl, and set aside. On high heat, sauté onions in remaining oil, stirring occasionally, until they're a light, golden brown. At the last minute, add chopped fresh garlic to brown. Set onion-garlic mixture aside in a separate bowl.
3. In remaining oil (add a bit if necessary), brown beef cubes on high heat, turning once. (Since the meat cubes won't brown evenly if they're piled up, you may have to do this in batches.)
4. Place beef and garlic cloves in a large stockpot or Dutch oven. Add saffron, cloves, and ¼ cup honey (if you rub the measuring cup with vegetable oil, it will slide right out), mixing everything well. Add ½ cup water, cover, and simmer 30 minutes. Preheat oven to 350 degrees, and continue to simmer 10 minutes longer.
5. Remove beef cubes with a slotted spoon, and place them on the bottom of a deep baking dish or a lidded casserole with a steam hole (if you don't have one, a cover of aluminum foil with two ½-inch holes poked in it will do). Cover beef with onion-garlic mixture, and pour sauce on top of everything. Bake 30 minutes. While you're baking, heat ½ cup of the honey in the top of a double boiler or in a saucepan on a very, very low heat.
6. Pour heated honey into baking dish, stir into other ingredients, re-cover with foil, and bake another 25 minutes or until beef is fork-tender. Remove beef, onions, and garlic cloves with a slotted spoon. Discard the juice, which is too sweet to make a good gravy. Serve with
garlic-rosemary roast potatoes
or rice and a vegetable.
Note:
You can also make this dish with lamb instead of beef.

Hungarian Beef Goulash
SERVES
6
This famous dish dates to the ninth century, when nomadic shepherds (
gulyás
) cooked stews over open fires. Jews, who have lived in Hungary since Roman times, adapted it to their dietary laws, eliminating ingredients like sour cream.
2 pounds (after fat is trimmed) stew beef, washed, trimmed of fat, and cut into 1-inch cubes
2 tablespoons Hungarian paprika
⅜ cup corn oil
2 cups chopped onion
4 teaspoons (1 tablespoon plus 1 teaspoon) crushed or chopped fresh garlic
½ cup celery, chopped into ½-inch pieces
2 cups green pepper, chopped into ¾-inch pieces
2 bay leaves
¾ cup carrots, chopped into ½-inch pieces, ¼-inch thick
3 pounds red potatoes, peeled and cut into 1-inch chunks
12 ounces tomato paste
1½ teaspoons salt
¼ teaspoon pepper
1. In a large bowl, toss beef cubes in paprika, covering them evenly.
2. Heat corn oil in a skillet, and sauté onions. Remove with a slotted spoon to a small bowl, and set aside. Brown garlic quickly in remaining oil, remove with slotted spoon, and set aside in a different small bowl. Sauté celery in remaining oil (it won't get very brown), remove with slotted spoon, and add to onions. Sauté green pepper in remaining oil (add a bit if necessary), remove with slotted spoon, and set aside in its own small bowl. Finally, sauté beef cubes in remaining oil (do it in batches so that they don't overlap and can brown evenly).
3. Place beef cubes, with pan juices, in a large stockpot (use a tall one, or you'll have a mess later from splattering sauce) with 6 cups water and bay leaves. Bring to a rapid boil. Add carrots, celery, and onions, and simmer for 1 hour.
4. In a separate pot, cook potatoes, drain, and set aside.
5. Add tomato paste, salt, pepper, and sautéed garlic to stockpot with beef cubes. Stir, and simmer for 30 minutes.
6. Add potatoes and green peppers, and stir. Simmer for ½ hour more, or until meat is fully tender and sauce is thick, not liquid.

“The best pastrami is made from beef plate, known as flanken, which is pickled, spiced, and smoked. It must be fat! To me, lean pastrami has no flavor. When fat-phobic customers order their sandwiches ‘extra lean,' it annoys me. I satisfy them by placing a few lean slices of corned beef or pastrami on top of the regular fatty sandwich. Psychologically, it helps.”

—Abe Lebewohl

Corned Beef Hash
SERVES
6
2 pounds very finely chopped corned beef (it's best to use a food processor or grinder)
6 cups peeled boiled red potatoes, chopped into ½-inch pieces
2 tablespoons corn oil
2 cups chopped onion
1 cup green pepper, chopped into ½-inch pieces
2 teaspoons finely chopped or crushed fresh garlic
¼ teaspoon pepper
Shortening for greasing pan
1. In a large bowl, combine corned beef and diced cooked potatoes. Set aside.
2. Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Heat corn oil in a large skillet, and sauté onions until browned. Remove with a slotted spoon, and add to bowl with corned beef and potatoes. Sauté green peppers in remaining oil (add more if needed), tossing in garlic at the last minute to brown quickly. Remove with
a slotted spoon, and add to bowl with corned beef and other ingredients. Add pepper, and mix in well.
3. Grease a baking pan and spread corned beef mixture about an inch high. Bake for 20 to 25 minutes, until crust is browned (if it's not brown enough, stick it in the broiler briefly). Serve with scrambled, fried, or poached eggs.

B
EFORE
L
ARRY
F
LYNT
, before Howard Stern, there was Al Goldstein—a man without equal in the pantheon of American iconoclasts. Best known as the publisher of
Screw
(which he launched in 1968 with an investment of $300), and for cable TV's
Midnight Blue,
Goldstein is also a “writer, photographer, gadget collector, film buff, lifelong atheist, cigar aficionado, and family man.” As a journalist, Brooklyn's most irreverent son began his career making the rounds for
The New York Mirror
with famed reporter Walter Winchell. Since those days, his byline has appeared not only in
Screw, Playboy, and Penthouse,
but in
The New York Times, Business Traveler, Harper's,
and
Forbes.
Rampant sexual obsession notwithstanding, Goldstein has always maintained that he'd pass up a roll in the hay (not that he'd ever use such a euphemistic expression; his was more alliterative) for a pastrami sandwich any day. So it's not surprising that he first met Abe when he called the Deli to cater a party at Plato's Retreat.
Abe Lebewohl was the very definition of a man in love with his work, his friends, and his life. The greatest joy in being with Abe wasn't just eating his wonderful food, but in sharing his joy at the moment. He didn't want to be king, he didn't want to be Donald Trump, he only wanted to be Abe.
His Second Avenue Deli produced the most magnificent cholent, pastrami, and corned beef imaginable in a city known for first-class gourmet delis. But Abe wasn't just a deli owner. He was a man who wanted you to eat and be happy. Because to Abe, as to everyone who ate at his deli, eating was happiness!
He always reminded me of the main character in Terry Southern's classic novel
Candy,
a woman who only wanted to give great pleasure to the men in her life. But Abe was not fictional, he was real. He was like a beautiful, magnificent woman who only wanted you to have a wonderful orgasm. He was the nymphomaniac running rampant amidst the sensual delicacies at the Second Avenue Deli. He wanted you to have pleasure. It made him feel wonderful when you felt wonderful.
I was friends with Abe for many years, and he was the most generous man I've ever known. He had a wonderful heart, and he was a great storyteller, although sometimes while hearing the same story for the fifth time, I found myself concentrating less on his words and more on the fantastic food I was eating.
Years ago, after much kvetching about his weight, I told him about my secret place in North Carolina, a health spa called Structure House, which the actor James Coco introduced me to more than twenty years ago. For Abe to even think of losing weight seemed extraordinarily courageous. Away from the smells and the tastes of his palace of the palate, what chance would he have eating steamed fish and boiled spinach? But I saluted his desire to come with me to North Carolina and grab hold of his food excesses.
I went to Structure House the same day that Abe did, so I could introduce him to my friends. Since he was such a social animal, with such a great love for people, I wanted him to feel comfortable with my friends. Still, I knew that within days, if not hours or minutes, his circle of friends would be far bigger than mine.
For the three days I was at Structure House with Abe, I found it impossible to lose weight. He loved the diet program, which consisted of counting calories, writing everything you ate in a food diary, and taking therapy classes. My problem was that every time I saw him, I saw a counterman slicing corned beef and pastrami. It was Pavlovian for me, because Abe equaled great food. Ultimately, I was doomed to failure. Abe did lose weight, but I left.
In the same way that an obese person dreams about ten-thousand-calorie binges, Abe had a gargantuan appetite for life and for his friends. I've missed Abe so much since his death, and I hate the people who took him from me. This is selfish, because such a magnificent, kind man is no longer in the world. But let my words breathe life into him again. Let my memories of Abe vibrate with passion. He was truly one of the most unforgettable characters I have ever met.
Al Goldstein's Favorite Recipe
“Take chopped-up pastrami and corned beef. Add raw garlic, and start chewing.”

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