Family-style French food in Ft. Greene

Ever since I started this blog, I've gone on and on about Brooklyn. I've lived here for seven years and still, the borough makes me weak in the knees. Last night, my love grew even stronger thanks to a birthday dinner for my friend Margherita at L'Epicerie du Quartier in Ft. Greene. By day, it's a gourmet grocery serving local produce, cheese and prepared foods such as quiche and roast chicken. On Saturdays and special occasions, it becomes a restaurant where groups gather for family-style, French meals.

Margherita and her husband Dante reserved the restaurant for 20 close friends. Together they worked on a seasonal menu with the owner/chef Jean-Baptiste, a French-American who has worked and lived in the neighborhood for years. For those of you familiar with Ft. Greene, he used to own A Table, a lovely French restaurant that closed (to the dismay of many locals), three years ago.

With L'Epicerie, Jean-Baptiste, or JB as many people call him, is able to once again run a restaurant. But this time around, he's able to get home each night to hang with his kids. He's a laid-back guy, and like many Brooklyn chefs, his eyes twinkle when he talks about things like farmers markets and fresh produce. I fell in love with his oldest son Etienne, a 10-year old food lover who requested foie gras for his last birthday party and recently fell in love with white truffle oil. On winter break from school, he was on hand last night to help his Dad.

We all arrived at 8:30, bearing bottles and bottles and wine (conveniently, L'Epicerie is BYOB) and mingled for a little while before sitting down at two farmhouse tables for our communal meal. JB explained that he had tweaked the original menu slightly based on his findings at the farmers market that day: bright, crunchy green beans instead of yellowish Brussels sprouts and zingy fennel in place of some sub-par arugula. He talked excitedly about the meal we were about to enjoy and I was happy to hear that everything was local, seasonal and as fresh as could be.

Since I'd forgotten my camera, I at first assumed I wouldn't be able to write about L'Epicerie. But as the night went on, I knew I had to say something. Not to mention that some of my friends are still waiting to get their very first shout-outs (Hi Sunetra!) while others (I'm talking to you, Turck!) can't help but ask whenever we eat together if this meal will be featured on my blog (which he insists on calling Little Miss Piggy). I couldn't let them down and it'd be silly to not tell all of you about L'Epicerie. Just accept my apologies in advance for all the blurry cell phone photos. It's the best I could do!

Our meal began with a butternut squash soup, topped with a few dollops of homemade pesto, served in mini crock pots. Unfortunately, I didn't get a photo, but believe me when I say it was very, very good.


Next came a fennel salad with sliced grapefruit, shaved Parmesan and toasted pine nuts. It was a light and refreshing combination and made me realize that I need to start putting more citrus in my own homemade salads.


For the main meal, our two tables were topped with white ceramic serving dishes. One was overflowing with green beans and another was full of grass-fed hanger steak with caramelized onions and a rich beef broth.

While we each dished up a hearty helping, Jean-Baptiste served everyone potato gratin squares from a huge pan. Rich and gooey thanks to gruyere cheese, they, and the rest of the meal, reminded me of the food I grew to love while living with my French host family.


Sitting with so many of my close friends, I felt like we were our own big, crazy family. Bottles of wine flowed all night long and more than a few people stood up to give a loving speech. I guess good food and drink brings out the sap in all of us!


Because we had the place all to ourselves, we could laugh loudly, shout and have seconds and thirds of all the good food, which of course, we did.


And we all made sure to save room for dessert, one of the most decadent chocolate cakes I have ever eaten. Rich and very sweet, each slice was a serious slab of chocolate that was best eaten slowly.

If you live in NY, I highly recommend a visit to L'Epicerie, especially this time of year. There couldn't be a better place to escape the cold and treat yourself to a local meal chock full of seasonal ingredients. For a group of old friends who love to eat, it was a picture perfect evening (with a lunar eclipse to boot!). Thanks again to Marg and Dante for such a fun night!

L'Epicerie du Quartier
270 Vanderbilt Avenue
Brooklyn, NY
718-636-1200

Spicy heirloom-bean chili

With so many cookbooks, food publications and websites to choose from, I normally don't pay much attention to recipes in women's magazines. (Having said that, I will admit that the tres leches cake at the bottom of this post is one of my most popular dinner party desserts and it came from InStyle magazine).

But in last month's issue of Domino, I saw this recipe for a spicy heirloom-bean chili. Its use of unsweetened cocoa and Greek yogurt enticed me and the whole dish just looked so pretty in a white, rustic pot. Plus, I'm a sucker for beans and this recipe required heirloom ones that I'd need to order from one website and two specific chili powders that I'd need to order from another. I'm sure many of you are thinking you would have stopped right there. Too much work for a simple vegetarian chili, right?

I was intrigued.

Not to mention that Judith, my one and only vegetarian friend, was coming over for dinner in a few days. This seemed like the type of dish she'd really appreciate. The recipe advised a mixture of dry heirloom beans, so when I went on the Rancho Gordo website to place my order, I selected three: black nightfall -- described as dense and fudgy, the sweet and meaty santa maria pinquito, and the nutritionally loaded tepiary. Then I went to Penzeys to order ancho chili powder (made from the most commonly used peppers in Mexico) and aleppo chili powder (a Turkish crushed chili that has an ancho-like flavor with a little more heat and tartness).

Unfortunately, neither shipment arrived in time for my dinner with Judith. (Daniel and I made this coconut-curry soup from Food & Wine and this Thai mango salad, both of which I highly recommend, instead).

The beans and spices showed up a few days later, the same night my Mom was supposed to come over for dinner. I ran the recipe by her not sure if she'd be interested in a vegetarian chili. She seemed ok with it, but pushed me to throw in some sausage too. I stood strong and said no. Now that she's reading Skinny Bitch and flirting with the idea of going vegan, I bet she's happy the chili was meat-free.

So, after all this work -- ordering spices and beans online, waiting for them to arrive, soaking them overnight, then spending a few hours in the kitchen cooking them, I'm sad to report that the chili was just so-so. Even topped with a hearty dollop of Greek yogurt and a sprinkling of cilantro, something was missing. (Sausage, maybe?). Daniel and I sliced sharp cheddar on top and that definitely helped, but overall, we were all underwhelmed by the dish. It was definitely good, but not as complex and earth-shattering as I expected.

Luckily, Daniel and I had invited our friends Karlyn and Doug over for brunch the next day. It wasn't until a few hours after eating the chili that we finally decided what we'd make for them: huevos rancheros! We were sure that our lackluster bean chili would surely shine in more vibrant breakfast scenario. As a stand alone meal, it was kind of boring. But as a supporting player in a main meal? Score.

After a night in the fridge, the chili's flavors had become much more pronounced. Served with a fried egg, toasted tortilla, chunks of salty avocado, melted cheese and fresh salsa, the heirloom beans really came alive. Suddenly, I loved this chili and the amazing breakfast it helped us to create. In fact, we loved it so much that Daniel made it again the next day for April and Josh who were visiting from Philly. And the next few days after that until all the chili was finally gone.

I still have a lot of heirloom beans left. I could try a revised version of the chili and see what Judith thinks. Or I could just whip her up a batch to have with fried eggs, tortillas, salsa and avocado. Something tells me she'll prefer it that way too.

Spicy-Heirloom Bean Chili
Serves 6
COOKING TIME: 1 hour, 20 minutes (excluding soaking time)

* 2 cups dry mixed heirloom beans
* 2 tbsp. salt
* ½ cup olive oil
* 3 yellow onions, diced ¼"
* 6 garlic cloves, minced
* 1 tbsp. aleppo chili powder
* 1 tbsp. ancho chili powder
* 1 tbsp. ground cumin
* 1 tbsp. dried oregano
* 1 can (28 oz.) crushed tomatoes
* 1 chipotle pepper, chopped (from 7-oz. can)
* 1 tbsp. unsweetened cocoa powder
* Greek yogurt
* lime wedges
* chopped fresh cilantro

Place beans in a large bowl, and cover with 4" cold water; let soak overnight. Drain beans, place in a large pot, add salt, and cover with 2" water. Bring to a boil; reduce to a simmer, cover and let cook until the largest bean is tender (about 45 minutes). Meanwhile, heat oil in a separate large, heavy-bottomed pot over high heat. Add onions and cook, stirring occasionally, until they begin to turn golden, about 12 minutes. Stir in garlic and cook 2 minutes. Add chili powders, cumin and oregano, and cook, stirring, for 30 seconds. Add 1 cup water, then stir, scraping the bottom of the pot. Add tomatoes, chipotle pepper and cocoa, and stir well to combine. When mixture comes to a boil, reduce to a simmer; cover and cook for 20 minutes (or until the beans in the other pot are done). When beans are ready, drain them and add to the tomato mixture. Cover and cook on low heat, stirring occasionally, for 40 minutes. Serve with Greek yogurt, lime wedges and chopped cilantro.