Seasons by the Sea: Country Mouse in the City

I do not like (insert little organ that controls our emotions here) New York. As a matter of fact, I very much dislike New York. Not the state, the city. It is dirty, noisy, nearly impossible to negotiate, expensive, nerve-wracking, just all around dreadful. I’ve never lived there and I never will.

I have tried to appreciate New York from a food perspective: You can get any ingredient, sample cuisines from every culture, and get food delivered to the doorstep of your $6,000-per-month lightless little hovel. The variety and moderate cost of food delivery options are enticing. But I must remind you, all restaurant food is loaded with salt, fat, and frequently MSG. Remember MSG? It is a flavor enhancer and was the gluten of the 1970s, as in everyone thought they were allergic to it, but science proved that only 1 percent of the population in fact was.

Suppose you want to cook at home? Most of my city friends, including those who are rather well-to-do, have miniscule kitchenettes. Nothing wrong with that. I cooked many meals for many years in a kitchen the size of a ship’s galley with a lame electric stove and no dishwasher. Difference is, my kitchen had ventilation and windows. If you want to fry up some fish in most New York City kitchens, your co-op board members will be snubbing you in the elevator for weeks. These friends who cook in the city tend to disable their smoke alarms, or just give up and go out, or get that delicious, salty, fatty takeout from Grand Szechuan.

What I do envy about my city mice pals is the availability of almost any ingredient. You can’t find galangal or kaffir lime leaves or extra-long basmati rice or green papayas out here on the East End.

So I do find my monthly visits to N.Y.C. an exercise in “how many cool foodstuffs can I find and carry back on the Jitney without breaking my back? Will this French feta cheese from Kalustyan’s survive without refrigeration for a few hours? Will this shrimp in chili oil stink up the bus and alienate my fellow passengers on the rolling box of hate? Heaven forbid!

I have amassed a pretty good stockpile of ethnic ingredients, and I am grateful that I have enough pantry space to store all of it, unlike my dear city slicker friends who stash their shoes in the unused oven a la “Sex and the City.” I am also grateful to the many restaurants from which I can get inspiration for dishes, then skedaddle home to Sag Harbor to attempt to duplicate them. One of my favorites is Hangawi, a sweet, tiny Korean restaurant that I didn’t even notice was vegetarian until I’d visited a few times. It’s that good. It has a house salad I like to replicate when I can find Asian pears. Hangawi’s salad has a garnish of fried, julienned strips of beet, taro, and yucca root. I discovered that some crumbled Terra Chips work just fine.

Up until a few years ago, you had to venture to Little Italy for decent fresh mozzarella. Now I don’t even have to leave Suffolk County because Pasquale at Red Horse Market in East Hampton is making the best mozzarella around. Hint: Do not refrigerate it. It will keep fresh for two days out on your kitchen counter. If it lasts past two days (doubtful, you’ll eat it first), then it’s time to refrigerate it.

If you are fond of Asian and Middle Eastern foods you probably already know about Kalustyan’s, probably one of the coolest markets in New York and just a brisk walk from the last Jitney stop at 40th and Lex. Here you can find preserved lemons for Moroccan tagines, pistachios in bulk, honeys from around the world, flat breads slathered with sumac, every kind of rice and lentil imaginable, tamarind pastes, cilantro chutneys, and Indian hot mix, a fun snack food.

I will never attempt Peking duck or steamed pork buns or monkfish liver sushi at home. These will forever be the treats made by the pros at the restaurants of New York. But for everyday or slightly exotic dishes, I prefer to stay home and make them myself . . . after I begrudgingly foray into that Big, wormy Apple to get the ingredients.

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