GASTRONORMOUS

The sign says the garlic scapes are $1.50 a bunch, but you may note that there is nary a “bunch” of these twisty tendrils to be seen—just a crate filled with loose ones. When I asked the proprietress of this booth at the Fort Greene Farmers’ Market last Saturday what constituted a bunch, she pursed her lips and dove both hands into the box. She pulled out two big handfuls of the scapes and offered them forward, shrugging “This much?” I was agreeable to the “bunch” size and held open my shopping bag so that she could unburden herself of scapes, as I unburdened by wallet of a buck-fifty.

Garlic scapes are the green stems that shoot up from the developing garlic bulb. They are cut off so that the garlic bulb itself can grow bigger. I imagine that as farmers figure out that they can extend their profits by selling these, garlic scapes will become more and more familiar to American markets (they have been eaten in parts of Europe for ages). And after my little culinary experiment, I certainly hope that is the case.

I had supposed the scapes would be relatively mild, in the vein spring garlic or ramps. But no, garlic scapes have an extremely pungent aroma, and an even stronger flavor. Cooking with them, I thought, might be a challenge. Having never used them before, I turned to the computer for more information and recipes, but to little avail. My search of the fantastic recipe website Epicurious came up with zero hits for scapes. A Google search brought up some references to garlic scape pesto, which sounded like a good option for dinner that night, but not much else that was useful.

But first that early afternoon, I needed to figure out what to do with the beautiful yellow and green pattypan squash I also bought at the market (and how to incorporate the scapes into whatever I decided to make with them). As it was incredibly hot out that day, I was already anticipating not wanting to stand in front of the stove cooking too much that evening, so a cold squash salad sounded like the perfect side dish to go with my planned garlic scape pesto.

My cold squash salad couldn’t be simpler to make, but does require some marinating time, so plan ahead if you are going to make it. I used scapes in this, but if you don’t have this pungent allium on hand, then substitute scallions, a couple cloves of crushed garlic, or some fresh herbs (dill would be good). Don’t overdo it with the add-ins, though; the point of this recipe is to celebrate in-season produce.

Summer Squash and Scape Salad

3 T apple cider vinegar
3 T extra virgin olive oil (a flavorless oil would also work)
2 tsp sugar
1/4 tsp salt
a few grinds of pepper
2-3 garlic scapes
4-5 pattypan squash (or 3-4 of another type of summer squash)

Whisk together the oil, vinegar, sugar, salt, and pepper. Taste and adjust seasonings if necessary.

Trim and slice the scapes crosswise. Use a mandolin or food processor to slice the squash as thinly as possible.

Give the dressing another good whisk and dump in the sliced squash and scapes. Give it a gentle stir, cover in plastic and refrigerate for at least 4 hours. Stir again before serving. (A lot of liquid escapes from the squash during the marinating process, so you might want to serve using a slotted spoon.)

*A note: I plated this on top of mixed greens, which looks nice, but actually did the flavor of the dish a disservice. Next time I would serve the squash salad on its own.

Serves 4 (as a side).

Tune in later for my unusual and delicious garlic scape pesto recipe!

Now, I had dinner at Frankies 457 Spuntino once, a year or two ago I guess it was, and after waiting nearly an hour for a table, we were rewarded with indifferent service and a bit better than mediocre food. Honestly, I did not understand why there was so much buzz about this place. I had certainly had many a meal I had enjoyed much more at Bocca Lupo, which was closer to where I lived at the time anyway. So I dismissed Frankies 457, not expecting ever to grace their doorstep with my regretful palate’s presence again.

Perhaps because so much time had passed, I no longer felt the sting of stubborn disappointment when friends suggested that we go to Frankies 457 for brunch last Sunday; though I admit to feeling a tad wary, despite their assurances of the deliciousness to come. (I swear my relenting had nothing to do with the fact that Kate Hudson and Lance Armstrong brunched there.) I was surprised to have to wait only ten minutes for a table for four at peak brunch time. Especially as I happened to be starving, this was good news.

We ordered coffee, which was particularly good, and also bloody marys. I don’t usually indulge in alcohol at brunch time, but I tried one a friend ordered and it was so tasty I couldn’t resist. The service wasn’t the most attentive–we had to ask for the bread that other tables were getting as a matter of course, and it was difficult in general to get our waitresses attention–but it was friendly enough. And the food, well, it made up for any insufficiencies presented by the staff.

As a starter we had the beet and avocado salad—glistening gems of purple and green, in a creamy but light dressing, and wisely unencumbered by lettuce or other intrusions into the delicious flavors of the simple dish. The frittata with sweet sausage and broccoli rabe came with lightly dressed greens, making for a satisfying savory meal. Frankies 457 version of a BLT, made with super thick-cut bacon, juicy tomatoes, and iceberg, was a succulent success. The prosciutto frittata sandwich was the one dish that underwhelmed. Maybe this was because it was no more imaginative than it’s title suggested. It was simply a piece of their frittata sandwiched between thin piece of flat Sullivan Street Bakery bread. No mayonnaise or other condiment, not even a piece of lettuce. It was a bit dry, and the tasty bread served to mask any flavor that the frittata on its own had. With so little apparent thought put into this dish, we were left to wonder, “what’s the point?”

The most winning dish of the day, surprisingly, was the eggplant sandwich. A sloppy affair of eggplant in a thick tomato sauce, topped with fresh salted mozzarella, all on the super thin Sullivan Street Bakery bread. It was difficult to eat, and at one point we resorted to using forks and knives, rather than our hands, but such a beautiful mess I have rarely seen. It was perfectly seasoned, and all the flavors were well balanced. Even the gaping hole in the bread exposing the cheese beneath didn’t bother me. It was an amazing sandwich that I would go back for again and again.

I do want to go back–and soon–if not for the eggplant sandwich, then for the french toast. As we were settling our bill, I smelled the most enchanting aroma, like sweet caramel and vanilla cream. I perked up and searched the room to see what it was, and then I saw it: a waitress was carrying two plates, each with two enormous slabs of battered, fried bread. That was when I inquired to my friends, “Brunch? Next week? Whatdyasay?”

Frankies 457 Spuntino
457 Court Street
Brooklyn, NY 11231
718-403-0033