Tantalizing toy food finds

Parents and kids often have very different ideas about what constitutes a "good" toy. I remember the year I so desperately wanted the Snoopy Sno-Cone Machine. I'm not sure why I skipped the E-Z Bake Oven (also popular at the time) and went straight for Sno-Cones, but my five-year old brain was obsessed with visions of making and sharing syrupy day-glo Sno-Cones in the livingroom.

Sticky syrup, brightly colored food dyes, garish commercialism... After all these years, I finally begin to understand why my father was horrified by the request. Needless to say, he didn't buy me the Sno-Cone machine. Instead, dad settled on the far more practical art set.

I imagine there are gobs of households filled with children who beg for art sets and receive, instead, items that more closely represent that household's parental hopes and dreams. Tiny doctors' bags, for example. Itty-bitty briefcases.

No, dad didn't try to force me into medicine or law. And yes, I used the art set. A lot. But I never forgot my Sno-Cone Machine dreams.



My food production fantasies turned to other outlets... I shaped the backyard mud into loaves to be baked on stones in the sun. I made salads of yard grasses and tried to feed them to the cats.

I coveted the adorable set of tiny plastic packaged foods and the toy cash register that belonged to another little girl whose name I remember only as "Kelly." As I recall, Kelly and I played grocery store over and over again until she gave me lice and then we broke up. She, much to my disappointment, kept the grocery store.

Later in life, I heard from other kids that the Sno-Cone Machine kind of sucked. The ice was always too hard for the flimsy grating device, and it mostly just dripped. Small vindication.

Several years ago, I finally enacted my revenge on a world that had seemingly plotted against my involvement with food commerce. I enrolled in cooking school. I took jobs in kitchens until I could no longer afford to pay both rent and school loans and had to quit.

Sudden career diversion, $30,000 in culinary school debt, a few bad marks on my credit... could all this have been avoided with a Snoopy Sno-Cone Machine? I can't say. Such mania may be inevitable.



Then again, today's toy food is ten times more compelling than the cartoon tie-ins of yesteryear. See, for example, the work of award-winning toy company Melissa & Doug.

I recently tripped across these items while paging through a copy of New York Family in the dentist's office. One peek at the orderly bento boxes sent me to the web, where I found the charming "Look, mom! I'm a sushi chef" play set, and a "nutritionist-in-training" wooden food groups assortment.

What food geek — whether five or fifty — wouldn't be dying to play?

Some favorites:

Sushi Pretend Food

More Wooden Sushi Toys

Sushi Slicing Kit

The Food Groups (in toy form)

Spring, and cheese shops are abloom

A note from my operative on the Lower, Lower East Side:

"The new cheese shop at the Essex Street Market opens tomorrow.
They have an interesting mission: stock only artisanal American
cheeses. I recommend a visit for a bit of wine and, of course, cheese."

This new enterprise joins the freshly formed Essex Street Cheese Company — a charming Comté-only outpost run by Jason Hinds of Neal's Yard Dairy in England and Daphne Zepos (formerly a cheese heavy at the Artisanal Premium Cheese Center).

Sensing some market competition? Cheese wars afoot? Nay. It's all friendly on Essex street. Apparently, those who love curd, love community.

Another of my food scenesters reports that Ms. Zepos is acting as consigliere to the new spot's young proprietress. Perhaps cheese maturation mellows the fromager as much as the fromage.

Varied Culinary Magic

Montréal seemed so full of promise. Look! (said we) cheap tickets! We'll fly for the New Year's holiday! There will be fun! There will be bistros! There will be cafés! They will love the food just as much as we do!

Alas... in late December all the cute places in Montréal close up and goes south for the holidays. Gone to Martinique. Gone to Florida. Gone to Guadeloupe. Who could blame them? Shards of frozen water fell from the sky, cutting wee wounds into the dry, flaking skin of our wind-burnt cheeks.

We spent bitterly chilly days pressing irritated noses into the cold windowpanes of shuttered restaurants while we wandered in a hopeless search for flavorful food. At last resort there were greasy diners and Canadian restaurant chains. These were, sadly, no better than their American counterparts. Our disappointment grew more and more humorous until we were overtaken by fits of giggles.

On the brighter side, our B&B was clean and friendly (thank you, Geraldine!) and the city was inexpensive (hooray for favorable exchange rates!). We found a couple of open bookstores and saw a vast array of fantastically weird beetles, spiders, termites, scorpions, butterflies and bees at the Insectarium. This stop turned out to be my personal highlight. Montréal gives great bug.

And the beer and cheese... also good. But one cannot live on beer and cheese, books and bugs.

Abandoning the quest for freshness and flavor, we pleaded for a smidgeon of savory spice from the chipper Scot who served us at the Bombay Palace on St. Catherine St.

Our man recommended a round of crisp Cheetah beer to wash down a basket of tandoor-fresh naan, a delightfully tender lamb vindaloo and a homey eggplant masala. We left our anxious bellies in his hands. I should note that Indian restaurants present a particularly nerve-wracking risk for me. I love subcontinental cuisine so much, and having cooked in an Indian-style restaurant, I'm particularly aware of how good every dish can and should be. The food was, thankfully, just fine.

The meal warmed our bones (momentarily) and made me hunger for a journey out to Patel Brothers back in Flushing, Queens.

Serving up spice since 1974, Patel is apparently a national chain. The Flushing shop contains aisles and aisles of spices, rices, peppers, pots, pans, sweets and snacks, and (as promised on their website) the spacious store provides a charming "range of authentic Indian groceries and bring joy and celebration of the taste of motherland India right at your doorstep. To bring those warm indian memories we have a wide range of Spices, Pickles, Chutnes, Pules, Lentils, Basmati Rice, to name a few. Helping you create the countries varied culinary magic right in your home."

Mmm... warm Indian memories.

And what's to be done with all the treasures you plum from Patel? I'll reproduce a recipe I recently posted in the comments field on I(heart)bacon.

Here's a simplified version of a bhel puri used as an app. The trick with Indian cooking (and with most cooking for that matter) is this: you have to taste it to get the seasoning right. It's supposed to be a tasty balance of tangy, sweet, spicy and salty. Brands vary in seasoning, so your tamarind chutney may be sweeter than mine. It's difficult, therefore, to recommend an exact quantity.

Pick up the sev (noodley things), puffed rice, tamarind chutney and mint chutney at an Indian food shop, online or at an enlightened supermarket.

(I like the Patak's brand for store-bought chutneys and pickles. Their lime pickle is fantabulous.)

Bhel Puri (makes approx 24-30 apps, served in cucumber cups*)

1 small onion, minced
2 green chilies (anaheims work well), deseeded and minced
1/2 cup hothouse cucumber (diced)
1/2 cup tart apple or mango (diced)
1/2 cup cilantro leaves, chiffonade or chop finely
1/2 cup chopped mint leaves, chiffonade or chop finely
juice of 1 lime
1 tsp chili powder
1 tsp chaat masala
tamarind chutney (about 1.5 Tbsp or to taste)
mint chutney (about 1.5 Tbsp or to taste)
salt/sugar/cayenne pepper (to taste)
1/2 cup puffed rice (to mix in at the very last moment before serving)
Sev (sprinkle on top for garnish)

1. In a bowl, mix all the ingredients together except rice and sev.

2. Taste for balance and adjust flavor with chutneys and seasonings.

3. Add puffed rice just before serving (otherwise, it'll get soggy).

4. Scoop by teaspoon into cucumber cups*. Sprinkle with sev.

5. Serve immediately with a hoppy ale.

*Slice hothouse cucumbers into 3/4" rounds. Scoop out a little cup in the middle of each slice with a teaspoon or melon-baller.

Patel Brothers
42-92 Main St
Flushing, NY 11355
718.661.1112