"Beer Soup" or "How Much I Love the Boy"

Sometimes Boyfriend feels a little left out of my cooking adventures. I usually plan to make dishes I think he will like, but, seriously, we can't have fried food all the time. (I tease, I tease). Honestly, Boyfriend and I love a lot of the same foods, but there are some dishes on which we simply disagree. For example, we all know how I feel about bread pudding. Boyfriend can't stand it. (More for me!) Meanwhile, he loves all seafood, while my feeling is that if it is cooked and has fins, it tastes like low tide. (I am strictly a raw bar/crustacean kind of girl). How do I keep the domestic peace? Every once in a while I throw the kid a bone and make a dish I have little or no interest in eating - and that's exactly how I ended up making beer soup.

Last weekend, Boyfriend and I were watching Anthony Bourdain's "No Reservations" Prague episode. Boyfriend, being of Czech descent, could hardly contain his excitement: "Can you make that? - Or that? - And that?" I told him he could pick any recipe out of our Czech cookbook and I would make it for him. Of course, he chose the beer soup, the one thing in the book that sounded more like an elaborate dare than a traditional recipe. At first Boyfriend didn't believe I would make it, but a promise is a promise. Beer soup it is.

"Dude, my dad is going to be so jealous." - Boyfriend

Beer Soup

(adapted from The Best of Czech Cooking)

1/2 loaf dark bread (about 10 oz.), cut into small cubes
16 ounces good Czech beer
6 cups beef broth
1 tablespoons caraway seeds
2 eggs
1 egg yolk
1/2 cup half and half

1. Place bread in a bowl and cover bread with beer. Let it soak for a few minutes.

2. In a large pot, bring the broth to a boil. Add the beer and bread mixture. Cook for about 3 minutes. Remove from heat and puree with an immersion blender. If using a blender or food processor to blend, let cool for a few minutes first.

3. Return puree to the large pot and bring to a slow boil. Stir in caraway seeds, salt, whole eggs and the yolk, using a big whisk or immersion blender to mix thoroughly. Take off the heat and mix in cream. Makes 6 servings.

P.S. You could probably play a lot with the flavor, depending on the bread you used. I used some kind of whole wheat everything bread from Whole Foods, but I would be interested to see how it tasted with a heartier dark bread. The soup was good, but wicked heavy. I feel full just thinking about it. That said, while I might not recommend making this specific recipe, I will say that this cookbook is great. Boyfriend and I have made several dishes, such as breaded veal cutlets with horseradish cream sauce and Chicken Paprikash, and will continue to use it frequently. Check it out - and be ready with a good store of butter.

Brunch at the Blue Duck Tavern

Although the Blue Duck Tavern is not a place I am likely to visit outside of the affordable confines of Restaurant Week (yikes!), my aunt and uncle were in town helping my cousin set up her new apartment and graciously invited me to the Blue Duck for an interesting brunch.

Interesting could be the watchword for this restaurant. Walking in was like entering a scene form Stargate. I felt like I was entering the foodie temple of the Sun god. The entrance itself is a set of huge, black, double doors that a) don't look like they open, and b) have no discernible sign that they lead to the restaurant. (Leap of Faith?) Once inside, one immediately goes up and down a series of small stone steps, while sunlight floods through a wall of windows. We had seats by the kitchen, which apparently is the place to be, so one can watch the chefs as dishes are prepared and served.

If anything Anthony Bourdain writes it to be believed, having an open kitchen must be absolute hell for a chef. I was expecting a milder version of Bourdain's wild, profane kitchens or even the fast-paced world of Bill Buford, but what I got was more akin to a sedate episode of Iron Chef America. Frankly, I forgot they were there. Perhaps it is a little more exciting for dinner service, instead of a sleepy brunch, but let's be serious here, folks, we all know I was more interested in eating the food. Luckily, the food was as interesting as the ambiance.

We started with mimosas and croissants, which were excellent. The jams, cream and honey were perfect. I ordered the sour dough pancake with port poached figs and fig molasses. (!!) The tangy and gooey chunks of fig combined with the light and fruity fig molasses (oh my), balanced the denseness of the pancake, keeping it from feeling too heavy. It was a sin to leave a morsel on that plate, which was not even a plate. My giant pancake was served in an equally huge skillet. In the succinct words of my uncle: "Big? That thing is a Buick." After croissants and jams, it easily defeated me.

My one reservation about this restaurant, as I mentioned, was the price. My aunt's eggs benedict looked a little on the small side for $17. Now, I know I am not brunching at Denny's or IHOP and that the best ingredients cost a little more, but I am still going through vicarious price shock for this brunch. (Thankfully, my aunt and uncle were picking up the tab).  Sure, I had a truck of a pancake, but I have to wonder if I had ordered another, smaller, dish, would I have left hungry and poor? Perhaps the added cost is a necessary offering to the Sun god. That being said, I loved my fig pancake and would be happy eating here again.