Great Expectations

chelsea, new york

Tonight when I was leaving Chelsea Market on my way home from work, I spied this young man behind the glass at Dickson's Farmstand Meats carrying a giant roast beef with such a Flinstones meets Dickens quality about it that it stopped me dead in my tracks. Just as he hoisted it up on his shoulder, I popped my head in for a butchery tutorial and learned that this cut, made of a whole hind leg of a cow, is called a steamship round.

From the quick snap I shot, you can't really grasp its girth or why its name is so befitting, but its presence demanded my attention. The gents responsible for this fine butchery were happy to tell me how this cut goes from slaughterhouse to supper table by way of their smoker. When I asked exactly what it would cost me to have this as the centerpiece at my holiday party, they started calculating.

"There is the per pound rate, plus shrinkage, plus the magic that happens in the smoker...roughly $500.

It's not every day you can get magic by the pound at the butcher shop, crafted by noble artisans none-the-less, so it seems like a fair price. But for those of us whose budget is more Bob Crachit than Ebenezer Scrooge, they are slicing it up as roast beef and selling it by the pound all week in their shop. Just in time for a old Fezziwig's Christmas Feast.

Cooking with Love & Paprika

l.i.c., new york

A few months ago, at the Dog Ear Book Barn in Vermont, I picked up a warn copy of Cooking with Love & Paprika. The title jumped off the shelf at me, and made me think of all of the paprika I'd brought home from trips to Hungary and hardly ever used. When asked what makes András feel most loved by me, I once heard him say "When she cooks me Hun {Hungarian} food," by which he means when I cook him anything with Paprika.

Paprika, and love, were the inspiration behind the Thanksgiving turkey I developed for the Food Network Magazine's Thanksgiving issue, which is about to go off new stands to make room for December (cookies!). I should have told you earlier about my elegant little bird, the paprika butter I stuffed under the skin and the glazed parsnips and chestnuts I served it with, because it may have had a better chance of making it onto your thanksgiving menu. But, if you haven't planned your menu yet, you can still get the recipe here. And, in case you missed it, I spent a morning on Good Morning America Health recently showing them healthy thanksgiving sides that deserve a place on even the most decadent holiday table. My favorite is the cranberry relish, hold the paprika, heavy on the love.

Lil' Gabagool

I bet you’re asking yourself, what’s a gabagool? That’s what I said when I saw these words printed across a tiny onesie last weekend at the Young Artist Market in Soho.

Gabagool is slang for the Italian cured salume capicola or coppa, which I learned from David Ciaburro, creator of this little onesie and his company, Wooster Street Meats. I suppose if I watched the Sopranos, I’d already have known that, but I certainly know what a Lil’ Proscuitto is, which is what first caught my eye on the front of a little blue t-shirt. When it did, I thought immediately of Hudson Finn. If you haven’t heard of him yet, you probably will some day. At the tender age of 21 months, he’s equal parts cool and kitsch, exactly the kind of kid who can pull of a shirt like this. Hudson’s Daddy, Shaun Finn, is a coppa-loving Irish-Italian from The Hill in St. Louis, and he and Hudson’s Mommy, Carissa, are two of my dearest pals from College. The two of them have more personality than Tony Soprano on his best day, so you can imagine...

About two months ago, Hudson became a big brother, and Lil’ Gabagool is exactly the kind of thing I’d imagine him calling his baby sister Sheane, that is if he could talk. For now, Hudson and Sheane's baby faces speak volumes with out words, so we’ll let their new t-shirts do the talking.

David wraps his Wooster Street salume {t's and onesises} cleverly in butcher paper and ties it with twine, and you can get them for the lil’gabagool in your life here. And, if you’re looking for the kind of salume you can eat, try Salumeria Rosi on New York City’s Upper West Side, which also sells their exceptional prosciuitto, porchetta and mortadella {my favorite} here. Mangia!