I’m just going to believe that Her Majesty’s Custom and Excise has better things to do than read my posts, because with the help of my green polkadot handbag, I shlepped home a hefty parcel of New York’s finest: pastrami. It was awhile ago—way before the pandemic and Brexit. Before I was afraid of either germs or getting arrested for smuggling.
I’m no newbie to bringing stuff home, as you might have figured out. In fact, Washington Post Journalist, Helen Carefoot wrote about me last week in her article about bringing stuff home:
Or…did I ever tell you the story of how I smuggled a long thin salami home in my bra? By nestling it inbetween the two ladies, it fit snugly and perfectly. It felt important to do this: I just couldn’t face life back home without a delicious salami. I want to assure you that I didn’t fly the whole long haul flight with the salami in my bra—no, mindful of health and safety, I put it there shortly before landing. It fit perfectly and was good for my posture too; when you have a long thin salami vertically in your bra you stand up straight.
But I’m telling you: I was nervous, so nervous, far too nervous to ever do that again. It was written about in the Wine Spectator by Sam Guigino titled “When your brassiere smells like a brasserie”. That salami was so delicious: thin, chewy, just salty garlicky enough. Perhaps the extra little bit of warm aging I provided brought out its beautiful flavours and aroma. But I confess I probably won’t do this again; who needs the aggravation? I mean, when I got to customs and saw the little beagle making the rounds, I thought I’d pass out.
Anyhow, my pathway of food shlepping is long and devoted; so here I was, at home in the UK, jetlagged but in possession of this gorgeous charred outside, peppery, smokey, fatty, beautiful beautiful beautiful pastrami. I didn’t want to just scarff it down, though the temptation was strong: I wanted to make an occasion of it. After all, how often do I have such delicacies, right here on my middle of the English countryside table? (never).
Here is what I did to embellish the meal and turn that pastrami into a party: I made two deli-ish salads, opened a selection of mustards, and set out several big fat kosher (salt-cured, no vinegar) pickles too. Thankfully I had stashed a fresh loaf of seeded rye bread in my suitcase, for sandwiches. Without that rye bread, I’d have to go back to New York again. How could we have pastrami without rye?
Potato, Peas, and Dill Salad
This really only makes enough for two but you can multiply it at will
I like to keep the skins on the potatoes for this salad. Such an earthy taste, the skins.
About 1 lb small to medium waxy potatoes, unpeeled
Salt to taste
1 tablespoon, aprox, white wine vinegar
About 1/2 cup petits pois or just ordinary peas: either fresh or frozen
3-4 green onions, thinly sliced
2 tablespoons, aproximately, coarsely chopped fresh dill
3 heaped tablespoons mayonaise
3 heaped tablespoons sour cream
Black pepper to taste, and a sprinkling of paprika on top for colour relief from the basically white salad.
Place the potatoes in a pot with water to cover and bring to the boil; cook 10-15 minutes or until the potatoes are just cooked through. Drain, cut each potato in half or quarters, sprinkle with salt and return to the stove for a few moments, shaking, covered, to dry the potato flesh.
Uncover, cut the potatoes into fairly large chunks, sprinkle with white wine vinegar and toss with green onions. Leave to cool.
When cool enough to touch, add the dill, the mayo, and the sour cream; Season to taste with salt if needed and black pepper.
Chill until ready to serve.
Cabbage and Red Pepper Slaw
Serves–again, about 2: two hungry people who love cabbage (i got overexcited photographing the beautiful peppers; don’t use so many in the recipe. the ones leftover i just munched down because sweet red peppers: the perfect snack (in fact, i find them the perfect airplane food: so rehydrating and sweet. So yes: use what you need for the slaw and eat the rest!—or at least one)
1/2 a medium to large cabbage, thinly sliced
1 yellow onion or 3 small shallots, peeled and finely chopped
Coarse grained sea salt, a few pinches, to taste
2-3 roasted red peppers, from a jar, diced or 1 fresh red bell pepper, diced/chopped
1-2 tablespoons white wine vinegar, or as desired
a few shakes of both dried turmeric powder and garlic powder/granules (i know, i know, garlic powder: i’m aiming for that kinda compelling wimpy garlic-ness that comes from dried). (but you can totally use fresh if you like: use one clove, finely chopped)
About 1 tablespoon sugar, more as/if needed
In a large bowl combine the cabbage, onions/shallots and salt, and work it through with your hands, squishing and squeezing it.
Add the red peppers, turmeric, garlic powder, vinegar and sugar; mix well, taste for seasoning, and chill until ready to serve.
Oh Paule I LOVE this story! Your father: a food shlepping hero! And I cherish your kind words.
Marlena, you are heroic and so funny. Years and years ago, my own father tried to bring back a Parma ham from Italy. Of course he could not smuggle it in his bra and when the customs in NY took it from him, he asked for a knife and started slicing some and eating it. Well it's probably a legend but your story is real, brava