VINEGAR HILL
If they didn’t seem like such natural partners, you might wonder whether Jean Adamson and Sam Buffa’s personal union wasn’t born of professional ambition. The couple met at Freemans, the self-described “rugged clandestine Colonial American tavern” located at the end of a preposterously atmospheric alley off the Bowery. Adamson was the chef, and Buffa owned the barbershop in Freemans Sporting Club, the affiliated men’s boutique. Adamson is a full-throttle chef who loves pork, butter, and cast-iron skillets; Buffa is a décor-obsessed antiques freak addicted to Americana and found objects. Turns out they both dreamed of opening a restaurant that fused Adamson’s culinary vision with Buffa’s aesthetic taste. “I was looking for a chef girlfriend and I didn’t even know it,” says Buffa. He’s sort of joking.
They had to gut-renovate the space they found on a residential block in the sleepy neighborhood of Vinegar Hill, but that was made easier by the fact that they lived in the carriage house out back. (They’ve since moved into the apartment above the restaurant and converted the carriage house to office space and wine storage.) The 750-degree heart of Vinegar Hill House is a wood-burning oven responsible for everything hot that comes out of the kitchen, save pastas and sauces. “When Sam and I conceptualized the restaurant, there was this kind of hand-built-house kind of thing,” says Adamson. “With that, my idea was that everything would be cooked with fire, over an open flame, kind of communal-style.” Adamson’s most famous dish is probably her Red Wattle country chop, sliced porterhouse-style and served over sauerkraut, though the cast-iron chicken (page 206) gives the chop a run for its money in terms of both richness and popularity. The delicata squash (page 208), a creation of chef de cuisine Brian Leth, has a following among vegetarians and meat-eaters alike.
As for Buffa’s half of the equation: wow. Especially considering how much of the restaurant’s charm was acquired on the cheap, from re-purposed materials. The bar is faced with wood salvaged from a barn in Virginia. Several tables were built with butcher block scavenged from a renovation upstairs. The old shutters from the front of the building now serve as decorative paneling in the bathroom. And the remarkable thing is, it doesn’t feel old or kitschy. Somehow all these discarded objects blend together under Buffa’s careful eye to become something fresh and vital. And the décor is always evolving. Jean has a thing for pottery from the seventies, so they’re sprinkling pieces around the restaurant. An oil painting of John F. Kennedy seems to appear in a different location every time we come in. “My whole goal,” says Buffa, “was I wanted it to be a continuation of the neighborhood, but then have a feeling that someone had lived there for a while and had taken pieces, found objects, and added onto it, added some layers.”
Unless you’re one of the regulars who live in Vinegar Hill, “it feels like an adventure to come here,” Buffa adds. “At Freemans you feel like you’re going on an adventure when you go down that alley, and I think there’s a similar thing that happens here. Even though you’re just going out to dinner, it feels like you’re going on a little vacation.”
SERVES 4
10 shallots, peeled, 2 sliced and 8 whole
1 large yellow onion, sliced
Two 2- to 3-pound organic or Amish chickens*
3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
2 cups dry white wine
1½ quarts (6 cups) homemade chicken stock or prepared low-sodium chicken broth
1 bay leaf
8 fresh thyme sprigs, divided
Coarse salt and freshly ground black pepper
10 tablespoons (1¼ sticks) unsalted butter, divided
4 teaspoons vegetable oil, divided
½ cup sherry vinegar
Been looking for a good excuse to buy that Lodge cast-iron skillet you’ve had your eye on? Here’s a fine reason to splurge on two (or buy one and borrow another). At Vinegar Hill House, chef and co-owner Jean Adamson serves this dish in small individual skillets, but you’ll be able to achieve very similar results at home. The chicken comes out tender and juicy, and the rich sauce (enhanced by those yummy brown bits scraped from the skillet) demands a good bread for sopping.
1. Preheat the oven to 425°F.
2. To make the jus, combine the sliced shallots, onion, and reserved chicken bones on a rimmed baking sheet. Toss with the olive oil. Roast, stirring every 10 minutes, until all the ingredients are browned, about 30 minutes. Remove the bones from the tray, leaving any fat behind, and transfer the contents of the tray to a large stockpot over mediumhigh heat. Add the wine and cook until it is reduced by three quarters. Add the stock, bay leaf, and a few sprigs of thyme. Bring to a boil, then reduce the heat to medium low and simmer for 45 minutes. Strain the jus through a fine-mesh strainer. Refrigerate until chilled, then skim the fat and reserve the jus.
3. Place the 8 whole shallots in an 8 x 8-inch baking pan. Season with salt and pepper, add 2 tablespoons of the butter, and pour in 1/8 cup water. Cover with aluminum foil and roast for 20 minutes. Uncover and roast for 15 minutes more, or until the shallots are tender and golden. Set the pan aside.
4. To roast the chickens, place two 9-inch seasoned cast-iron skillets† in the oven for 15 minutes. Season the chickens generously on both sides with salt and pepper. When the skillets are hot, carefully remove them from the oven and add 2 teaspoons of the vegetable oil to each skillet. Place 2 chicken halves in each skillet, skin side down. Roast for about 30 minutes, checking often, until the juices from the thigh run clear.
5. Remove the skillets from the oven and pour off any fat. Turn the chicken halves over, skin side up, and deglaze each pan with ¼ cup of the sherry vinegar, scraping the bottom to release any brown bits. Add 4 tablespoons of the butter, ¼ cup of the reserved chicken jus, and 4 shallots to each pan. Return to the oven and roast for 3 minutes.
6. To serve, place a chicken half, 2 shallots, and a bit of the pan sauce on each plate. Garnish with the remaining thyme sprigs.
SERVES 6
Six delicata squash, 3 to 4 inches long, halved lengthwise
8 tablespoons (1 stick) unsalted butter, divided
Coarse salt
2 tablespoons pure maple syrup Freshly ground black pepper
1 to 2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil, plus more for garnish
2 egg whites
Ground Aleppo pepper or paprika, for garnish
Sea salt, for garnish
Brian Leth, the chef de cuisine at Vinegar Hill House, came up with this easy-to-make dish one day at the height of summer, as he was fantasizing about what he’d like to eat when it got cold again. The squash gets even sweeter with the maple syrup, but both are balanced and reined in by the two types of pepper, toasted squash seeds, and sea salt. The result? A rich, buttery, deeply satisfying vegetarian entrée that’s inspired by a cold-weather classic from your grandmother’s recipe collection: the twice-baked potato.
1. Preheat the oven to 425°F.
2. Scrape the seeds from the squash and place them in a colander. Rinse under cold water to remove as much pulp as you can. Drain, then transfer the seeds to a plate lined with a paper towel and reserve.
3. Peel 6 of the squash halves (the least attractive ones) and cut them into 1-inch cubes. Place the cubed squash in a large saucepan with a tight-fitting lid. Add 6 tablespoons of the butter and season with salt. Cover and cook over low heat, stirring occasionally, until the squash is soft, 25 to 30 minutes. Transfer to a blender and, working in batches, puree the squash with the maple syrup. (You can also use an immersion blender to puree the squash.) Add the remaining 2 tablespoons butter, pureeing until the mixture is silky smooth and thick. Refrigerate until ready to use.
4. While the squash is cooking, line a rimmed baking sheet with parchment paper and lightly oil the paper. Season the remaining squash halves with salt and pepper and place them cut side down on the baking sheet. Bake for 20 minutes, or until tender.
5. Reduce the oven temperature to 375°F. Toss the reserved squash seeds with the olive oil, salt, and pepper and spread on a parchment-lined rimmed baking sheet. Toast the seeds in the oven until they are crispy and aromatic, 15 to 20 minutes. Stir the seeds halfway through the cooking time to break them apart.
6. Whip the egg whites to soft peaks and fold them into the cooled squash puree. Spoon the puree into the baked squash halves. Return them to the oven and bake for 15 minutes, or until the puree and the edges of the squash are golden brown.
7. To serve, drizzle each squash half with olive oil and garnish with the toasted seeds, Aleppo pepper or paprika, and sea salt.
* Ask your butcher to bone out the chickens and cut them in half, leaving leg and wing bones intact. Make sure to reserve the other bones for the jus.
† At the restaurant, this dish is served in individual 6½-inch skillets. If you choose to do the same, cook ½ chicken in each pan, then add 2 tablespoons of the sherry vinegar to deglaze, 2 tablespoons of the butter, 1/8 cup of the reserved chicken jus, and 2 shallots per pan. Be careful because the skillets will be extremely hot. Use trivets under each pan when serving.
