By SONYA REHMAN

“Katakat” (pronounced “Ka-ta-kat”) is a popular offal Pakistani dish served at Kabab King Diner in Jackson Heights, Queens. It’s a tantalizing, spicy mutton dish that is an assortment of kidney, brain and lamb chops, and the meaning behind the name, Katakat, is an interesting one.

As the offal is sliced and diced swiftly, the sounds that the knife makes as it hits the cutting board makes loud and clear “kut, kut, tuk, tuk, kut-a-kut” sounds.

Spiced with coriander, red chili powder, salt and green chilies, and fried in oil with onions, ginger and garlic, Katakat resembles a plate of fine mince once prepared and ready to eat.

Served with soft naan bread and fresh salad, Katakat remains a favorite Eastern delicacy among locals and foreigners alike.

Address:

Kabab King Diner
7301 37th Road.
Jackson Heights, NY 11372

By SONYA REHMAN

They’re tall, they’re bearded and they make chocolate. Artisan chocolate.

Meet the Brothers Mast: Rick and Michael. Their company, Mast Brothers Chocolate, is slowly gaining momentum in Brooklyn.

Covered by The New York Times  as part of Brooklyn’s new culinary movement, the brothers launched their company three years ago with the help of “our mother and credit cards.”

But it was only in February that they moved into their rather spiffy factory, with steel chairs and a wooden table, the air within breezy yet steady, with the aroma of warm chocolate churning away, being tempered in another room.

Michael and Rick Mast. (Photo by Lucy Hamblin)

The 120-year-old building used to be a spice factory. No wonder then, its rustic and rather earthy feel. But rather than having the appearance of a factory, both its interior and exterior makes it look like a sturdy warehouse.

Three years ago, while Michael was taking film courses at NYU and dabbling in different productions, Rick had an epiphany.

Working as a chef at different restaurants in New York City and at private parties, Rick, who had studied with the chocolatier Jacques Torres, began serving confectionery, such as truffles, that he made from scratch. The feedback he received was encouraging, goading him to finally decide to launch his own company with his brother.

From very little equipment, a small room and burlap sacks, Mast Brothers Chocolate has come a long way.

But it’s been slow and steady, just the way Rick likes it.

He is resolute about continuing the production of personalized, bean to bar, artisan chocolate-making. From choosing which regions to import their cacao beans to personally visiting the farms and then making the chocolate – the nine to 15 varieties of chocolate are custom-made, from start to finish. Flavors include the traditional — with almonds — to the more unusual — fleur de sel, or sea salt.

“We mainly produce dark chocolate,” says Rick, “We have a dedication to people who don’t eat dairy.”

But what makes their chocolate “artisan chocolate”?

“The whole process,” Rick (obviously the more talkative of the two) says. “One has to be at par with the whole process. Finding the best farmers, the best cooperatives, and going down to the regions and buying the beans ourselves.” This attention adds to the price, of course — a 2.5-ounce bar sells for about $12.

“We wanna be like the local butcher,” Rick states hopefully, adding that he’d like his customers to develop a certain level of trust with their product.

Walking over to the table where Stephanie Ault (one of six employees at the factory) is sorting out the cacao beans, Rick runs through the entire process, from the sifting to the husking, to the crushing and to the mixing, to the cooling and to the cutting. The aroma in the mixing room is stronger, as the mixers gently roll the mounds of thick chocolate over and over.

In the mixers, the chocolate being twisted and twirled is almost hypnotic. That, coupled with the aroma … and one is in a trance.

With cacao beans flying in from the Dominican Republic to Madagascar, and from Brazil to Venezuela, what do the Brothers Mast look for in a bean?

“That it’s delicious,” Rick answers intently, “If it’s delicious, everything else tends to follow.”

By SONYA REHMAN

In a bid to get children in New York City to start eating right, the Department of Education, which has already moved to make only healthy beverages available from school vending machines, has prohibited bake sales from public schools.

“We understand the need for parent groups to raise funds at school gatherings. However, we are doing schoolchildren a disservice by using these events to distribute and promote foods that contribute to obesity,” said an Oct. 7 press release by the Health Department, responding to the Department of Education’s initiative to curb childhood obesity.

William Havemann, the media spokesperson from the Department of Education stated: “We don’t track how often schools have bake sales but schools are now permitted one bake sale per month during school hours, and after 6 p.m. on weekdays they can have as many as they want.”

The ban “makes me very angry,” says Liza Campbell, a teacher at the Bushwick School in Brooklyn. “It’s a traditional form of fundraising where kids can bake stuff with their families. It brings families together.”

Caitlin Duffy, who teaches at the MS 245 Computer School in Manhattan, says she is disheartened by the reasoning behind the ban. “The actual reasoning seems ineffective,” she said. “Minimizing their sugar intake is definitely not the effect. The amount of baked goodies students can buy with what money they have on hand is hardly enough to cause them a lot of harm unless these bake sales have a daily frequency.”

Photo illustration by Sonya Rehman

Cassandra Dillenberger, a concerned parent, doesn’t think the bake sales will curb childhood obesity. She says, “Better lunch meals provided at schools and better home nutrition are better places to develop good eating habits. Bake sales are fundraisers for class/school activities for which no alternative school funding is available. These are for enriching activities such as school trips, graduations and things like that.”

The Health Department release made no suggestions how to replace the bake sales. Duffy says that some of her teacher friends are unsure how to raise money for extracurricular activities without bake sales, “They can’t possibly get funding through Parents Associations or their budgets or fundraising programs purchased by the school,” she says, “So they are stuck without means for extracurricular activities where they might want to quickly raise a registration fee, the cost of T-shirts, or other simple club needs.”

Merril Zgar, a parent of four, thinks the ban is misguided. “Banning bake sales won’t teach children anything,” she says, “They can snack across the street on Twinkies at a bodega. As a parent, it’s important for me to limit my child’s sweet intake and that comes from parental discipline. It’s not about having no sugar. It’s about moderating your sugar intake and if you eliminate something entirely, it only causes the child to want it more.”

Lana Ajemian, vice president of the New York State Parent Teacher Association, says the group “strongly encourages innovative ideas and alternatives to providing high sugar, fat or salty foods for classroom celebrations.”

This sentiment is echoed by Mary Jane Detroyer, a nutrition and exercise consultant, “If they want to initiate change, why not have allow the bake sale and provide healthier recipes for options to sell, like muffins using less fat and some whole grains, zucchini bread or banana bread or carrot bread, or homemade granola bars, etc.”

“I think our government is truly hypocritical when it talks about the obesity epidemic,” Detroyer says, “They do not fund money for gym class and they provide high fat, processed food for lunch. The children need to learn how to eat at home, also. I think a better idea than getting rid of bake sales would be for each district to have a registered dietitian on staff that could visit the schools and teach the children how to eat properly and work on recipes for the cafeteria and offer education to the parents.” The cost, she said, “would be well worth it for what it is going to cost down the road to pay for the health care for these children.”

At the Brooklyn Flea Market under the Brooklyn Bridge every Sunday, food entrepreneurs sell their wares alongside some of the nicest junk you're likely to get your hands on. (Photo: Sonya Rehman)

By SONYA REHMAN

Set up under the Brooklyn Bridge every Sunday, the Brooklyn Flea is home to probably some of the nicest junk you’d ever be able to get your hands on. But among the stalls selling old records, shiny baubles, vintage bird cages, Victorian brooches and ethnic rugs, food vendors sell their goods to hungry shoppers.

Relatively new to the food business, these entrepreneurs, many with small shops elsewhere,  set up their stalls in a bid to introduce the public to their goodies.

On Oct 25, the Brooklyn Flea was abuzz. Amid families with their children in tow and the antiques, oddball junk jewelry, cupcakes, candy, chocolate and creamy Ricotta cheese were fast being sold.

Martha Stewart was spotted with her TV crew lolling about the flea. She stopped at the Brooklyn Blue Marble ice cream stall and tried a taste of chocolate chip.

Her response was a definite “mmmmmm.”

Martha Stewart with her TV crew at the Brooklyn Flea. Stopping by at Brooklyn Blue Marble ice cream cart, Stewart let out an audible “mmmm” as she ate a scoop of chocolate chip. (Photo: Sonya Rehman)

Daniel Sklaar of Fine & Raw Chocolate used to make and sell chocolate from his kitchen until FDA regulations were tightened. Selling his goods online and at the flea market for two years running, Sklaar considers himself to be an artisan of chocolate and makes fresh batches weekly. (Photo: Sonya Rehman)

Having worked at Roni-Sue’s Chocolates previously, Liz Gutman met Jen King at the French Culinary Institute and decided to launch Liddabit Sweets in April this year. “Jen and I had talked about going into business together for a while,” Liz says while adjusting her glasses. Producing for wholesale and catering for weddings, Gutman and King set up their sweet stall at Fort Greene in Brooklyn every Saturday. (Photo: Sonya Rehman)

“This is my bread and butter,” says Betsy Mark Devine of Salvatore Bklyn with a smile. Mainly wholesale producers of cheese, Devine and her partner Rachel have been selling homemade cheese, particularly Ricotta, for two years and have a stall set up at the Brooklyn Flea every Sunday. (Photo: Sonya Rehman)

Keavy Landrith specializes in little morsels of delight -- teeny cupcakes that look almost too pretty to eat. With degrees from the Culinary Institute of America and The French Culinary Institute, Landrith initiated Kumquat Cupcakery two years ago. With no retail location, Landrith says her business went into full bloom after her cupcake hobby began verging on pure obsession. Catering for parties and events, Landrith works from a rent-out kitchen. (Photo: Sonya Rehman)

By SONYA REHMAN

On a drizzly Friday night in early October, with no moon showing in New York, one bar here opened its doors in celebration of the Mooncake Festival.

In China, families traditionally get together at home to observe the moon when it is full, round and chubby, and eat mooncakes, round and chubby.  And in China, the festival fell the following day, but that was inconvenient in New York.

In New York, the Mooncake Festival is a meet-and-mingle at Ainsworth, on 26th St., a wood-paneled bar with  few echoes of the old country but  a lot of introductions.

While one portion of the bar was comprised of youngsters cradling drinks and watching  baseball on numerous flat-screen TV’s, the other portion consisted of a large, cozy bunch of people, most of them Chinese, engaged in conversation amidst drinks and mooncakes.

‘Mooncake Madness’ was put together by ‘Mandarin Mondays’ – a group of over a thousand Mandarin-speaking members based in New York City – and organized by ‘ConnectionZ Promotions’, an event-management company that aims at promoting peace through cross-cultural understanding.

In addition to  Chinese Americans who were present, a sprinkle of individuals from other ethnic backgrounds was also present – all mingling busily.

“This is more of a meet-up,” said Peter Hong, a  smiling, middle-aged man. “It’s a gathering of people just to practice their English and Mandarin. It does help me re-connect with my roots because in America the Asian holidays are rarely celebrated – so this is one chance for Asians to get together and remember their own holidays without getting lost in the US.”

Biting into a small slice of mooncake (a pastry filled with lotus seed paste), Stephanie Bechtale was pretty candid; “This event is a little different from what I thought because I thought, ‘okay they’re going to celebrate the Mooncake Festival and we’re gonna watch the moon.’ But this event is more like just to make friends.”

And lowering her voice, she added; “I also heard that most of the people here are single and are enjoying making friends. Probably this isn’t right for me! I’m not single but I came here because it’s a holiday.”

Lee Abbey, an American doctor who has lived in New York his entire life, has been a non-Chinese member of Mandarin Mondays for four years and believes that through events like this, one gets to meet Chinese people and learn Chinese. “Every Monday we have a meet-up in a restaurant and the first Monday of the week it’s usually a large group, and there’s a buffet. The other Mondays, it’s a smaller group and we all share dinner together. It’s basically a mixture of people of all levels of Chinese and people who’ve either lived in China or studied there. And we come together to discuss our experiences and get to know each other.”

Scott Chan, a Chinese American who has been living in New York for 20 years, thinks that it’s refreshing to be able to meet with other Mandarin speaking people through events like the Mooncake Festival.  “Also, as you can see”, he says gesturing towards the crowd of people, “There are not only Chinese people here…”

Having moved to America with his family when he was only 4-years- old, Kevin Yeung goes to school in Manhattan and has lived in Queens all his life. He thinks that the event tonight has its flaws, “But the very fact that we’re organizing this festival and celebrating it, yes, it does somewhat help me to get in touch with my culture, but in my opinion if you really wanna be connected to Chinese culture, you would actually have to get into the culture! Because right now it’s being held inside a bar – an American bar! And a Chinese cultural event being held in a bar seems to me, very foreign.”

Amidst the loud, blaring music, the clink of glasses and beer bottles, the flow of conversation and occasional outbursts of cheers from the other side of the room when a home-run was hit, the Mooncake Festival at Ainsworth was celebrated a bit differently from how it would look the next day, in China.

Mooncake recipe:

Cook Time: 20 minutes

Ingredients:

• Filling:
• 1 pound red azuki beans
• Water
• 3/4 cup lard or oil
• 1-3/4 cups sugar
• Water-Shortening Dough:
• 2 cups flour
• 5 tablespoons lard
• 10 tablespoons water
• 1/4 teaspoon salt
• Flaky Dough:
• 1 cup flour
• 5 tablespoons lard
• red food coloring for design

Preparation:

Filling Instructions: Soak red beans in water to cover 2 hours. Drain and discard the water. Cover with 8 cups fresh water and bring to a boil, then simmer over low heat 1-1/2 hours or until skins open. Strain the beans and discard the skins. Place the strained beans in several layers of cheesecloth and squeeze out any excess water.
Place in a saucepan with the lard or oil and the sugar. Cook, stirring continuously, until almost all the moisture has evaporated. Let cool.

Dough Instructions: You will need 2 cups of filling for the mooncakes. Divide this into 20 portions and shape into balls. Mix ingredients for the water-shortening dough and the flaky dough separately until smooth. Divide each dough into 20 equal portions.
Wrap one portion of flaky dough inside each portion of water-shortening dough. Roll out each piece of dough, and then fold in thirds to form three layers. Roll out again, and once more fold in thirds to form three layers.

Flatten each piece of dough with the palm of your hand to form a 3″ circle. Place one portion of filling in the center. Gather the edges to enclose the filling and pinch to seal. Place the filled packet in the mold, gently pressing to fit. Invert and remove the mold.
Dilute red food coloring with water and pour onto a damp paper towel on a plate. Take some food coloring onto the cookie-design stamp, then press on top of the mooncake.
Repeat process for remaining mooncakes. Arrange mooncakes on a baking sheet.

Bake 20 minutes at 350 degrees. Cool before serving.

An aspiring musician seeks to create a following on the streets of New York City with free vegan cookies and an inflatable green couch.

By SONYA REHMAN

“Wouldja like a cookie, sir?” Scott Alexander asks with a lopsided smile to a man walking by. His arm is outstretched, and he’s holding a plastic container full of vegan chocolate chip cookies. Homemade and crumbly, many of the imperfect circles have broken in halves. Sitting on an inflatable green couch that he bought on E-bay, Alexander manages to attract quite a crowd at Washington Square Park. He’s been giving out cookies at Washington Square, Union Square and the Lower East Side for five weeks.

While a few people walk past, their brows furrowed as they glance over skeptically at Alexander, many stop for a chat as they munch on the homemade cookies, holding the yellow business card that he passes out with them.

Working as a doorman to make ends meet, Alexander’s true vocation lies in music. And giving out free cookies at parks and public places allows Alexander to network, to meet “friends” in real time instead of just on Facebook, Myspace and Twitter. Before he sets out to a spot to hand out his free cookies, Alexander tweets his time and location in addition to announcing it over Craigslist.  But he doesn’t meet many of his followers in person frequently.

With a little over 200 followers on Twitter and Facebook and 2,000 friends on Myspace, Alexander believes that music is the art of putting sound into a context and considers meeting people and giving out cookies to be a part of his music. “It’s going to be a different experience,” he says, “when someone comes to see my show or listens to my recording— because they found out about it through seeing me on an inflatable green couch and me offering them a cookie — rather than if they saw a bunch of sexy-looking posters of me up on Broadway or something.”

Alexander’s debut album was supposed to be ready last March, but he says a sketchy producer and other problems have delayed it. But the experience hasn’t put a damper on his confidence.

Tall, blue-eyed, bespectacled and slightly chubby, Alexander was born in St. Paul, Minn., in 1980. A graduate from UCLA in ethnomusicology, he moved to New York four years ago and considers himself to be an “under-appreciated rock star.” He lives in the city with his wife, Rebecca.

Attracting a crowd at Washington Square Park. (Photo: Isabelle Schäfer)

Getting up frequently to refill his fast deflating couch, Alexander finally finds the problem: a hole in the side. “Up until this recession,” he says while crouching down and struggling to inflate his couch with an electric motor. “I’ve been very fortunate to have a day job that allows me a pretty flexible schedule and to work for three to four days a week and support myself so I can focus on the music,” which he refers to as “non-repetitive pop.” Working as a doorman since he was 16 at an opera house in Minnesota, Alexander says that it’s frustrating to continue working as a doorman even though he has earned a degree.

“I wanna be really honest about this,” he says. “I am motivated by the fact that the more friends I have, and that by making friends and people doing stories on me it will draw attention to my music — but, it’s also just really fun for me to meet people.” Inspired by other bands and musicians who promote their music over Myspace, Alexander said he believes that many wind up overdoing the online promotion so much so that it becomes unrelenting and annoying, making it harder for any other newbies who want to promote their music online.

Ariela Rubin, who found out about Alexander through her friends on Facebook, began following him on Twitter only recently. “I thought it was an awesome idea”, Rubin says enthusiastically. “I mean free and cookies — what can be better?”

But why vegan cookies, why not burgers or fries? “You don’t win friends with potatoes,” Alexander (a vegan himself) says in mock seriousness. As an afterthought he adds, “Also, I’m really good at making cookies.”

Making friends in real time as opposed to virtually. (Photo: Isabelle Schäfer)

Kathryn Somerville, who had been taking photos of Alexander with her digital camera, just became Alexander’s newest fan on Facebook. “I was in the park a week or two ago,” she says, “And he was here and I was like that’s a cool couch, where’d you get it? And he offered me a cookie, and his card! And now I’m his fan on Facebook!”

Kalman Fox, who says he’s a stand-up comedian, more wary. “You gotta watch out,” he says. “Some people might think they could be poison in the cookies. He could be a crazy person – you never know, can’t go by looks. I’m kosher so I’m not gonna eat one.”

A woman, dressed in a black vest, pants and hat looks at Alexander’s couch and wrinkles her nose. “This is the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen!”

“It draws attention!” Alexander says defensively, albeit with good humor.