Chef Jeremy Salamon is having a busy month. In addition to running his lively Crown Heights restaurant, Agi’s Counter, a seasonal-food spot with Hungarian and Jewish influences, he’s readying a new restaurant, Pitt’s, which will take over the Red Hook space that once housed Fort Defiance. Plus, his first cookbook, Second Generation — a project seven years in the making — hits shelves on Tuesday. Also, there’s all the dill he has to contend with. An Eastern European staple, “it ends up in the oddest places,” Salamon says. “Once my sous-chef went home and found some in her underwear, and I’ve had it in my eye socket before — at Agi’s, we always say it’s like our glitter.”
Monday, September 2
My day off starts at 7 a.m., when my cat, Sage, pokes me repeatedly on the cheek until I’m staring into her cartoon-size green eyes. My boyfriend, Mike, and I like to say she’s “clocked in and working.” I roll in the other direction, but after some more insistent meowing and poking, I oblige.
Once I feed Sage, I make a French press, do the New York Times mini-crossword, and write my to-do list. This is an unusually busy week for me, in an unusually busy year. On Thursday, I’ll be headed off to Napa Valley to do a pop-up at Loveski Deli and participate in a chefs’ potluck-dinner series at the Charter Oak. Between Agi’s Counter, Second Generation, and another restaurant on the way, there is an unholy amount to get done.
After coffee, I make a peanut-butter-and-chocolate protein shake and head off to the gym with Mike. We grab some Grady’s French vanilla cold brew and a carton of eggs on the way home. Mike makes us his “one eyes,” also known as toad in a hole, a fried jammy egg set in griddled sourdough bread. To eat it, you take the cut-out bread circle and dunk it in the egg yolk. It’s incredibly simple but life-changing. Mike wants to put it on the menu at Pitt’s (our forthcoming second restaurant) for lunch. Today, he serves it with extra butter and sliced grapefruit.
I work from the kitchen table and respond to some emails, deal with Agi’s reservation inquiries, and start preparing cookbook thank-you letters. Sage is busy hunting the chicken that haunts our back window. Yes, there are chickens in our backyard. No, they are not ours.
Mike and I decide to spend the rest of the afternoon in Red Hook. We take the car, which smells like curdled milk (apparently, I left a coffee on the back seat). We take Citi Bikes toward the water to enjoy the weather, and at around four o’clock, we head over to the San Pedro Inn, where stained-glass pendant lights hang alongside wood-paneled walls covered in old magazines and posters. We drink spicy margaritas and eat guacamole with our friends Daniel and Victor, then Mike and I walk them to the new restaurant space on Van Brunt Street.
Afterward, we double back toward the water to watch the sunset and grab some barbecue at Hometown, which is full of big groups of friends and families. It’s Labor Day, and even though I didn’t plan it, I realize I ended up doing the most Labor Day thing you can do: eating barbecue. I have brisket, coleslaw, and pickles, and Mike gets the wings.
Tuesday, September 3
My alarm goes off at seven again, but Sage is already clocked in and working. Then Mike’s alarm — the orchestral opening to Lady Gaga’s Chromatica — goes off. I really wish he would change it. Agi’s is closed on Mondays and Tuesdays, so I decide to make a cappuccino. I don’t know how to do flashy milk art, though, so is it really a cappuccino?
I mix up my protein shake and head out the door to see Tom, my trainer. Working out has become important to me; it gives me one solid hour of no phone, no questions, nothing on fire, no leaky pipes … I love every second of it. After, I take a walk to the West Village to grab an iced cortado from Birch Coffee, my favorite café in New York. The coffee itself is superb, but it’s also just a nostalgic place for me. I came to the city when I was 18, more than ten years ago, and I moved in with a couple of roommates around 14th Street and Seventh Avenue. We got very lucky — I don’t think you’d be able to find something like that in the area now. I worked at Prune, and I would go to Birch Coffee every morning.
I answer emails and a few phone calls from the shop, then I take the subway to a cheese tasting at the Saxelby warehouse in Gowanus, which I’m very excited about. I’m a little early, so I walk over to Whole Foods and grab a pack of turkey cold cuts. I love cold cuts, especially when dipped in mustard. My staff likes to make fun of me because I keep a stash of deli meat in the basement at Agi’s.
I’m meeting Nathalie, who will be the sous-chef at Pitt’s, at Saxelby. We taste 14 different cheeses! The fromage blanc is especially great: It’s an insanely delicious fresh cheese, fluffy and acidic. We’ve used their products at Agi’s in the past and will definitely use them at Pitt’s too. It’s a gorgeous day out, so once we’ve eaten our fill of cheese, I set out to walk all the way to Red Hook, but about 25 minutes in, I give up and grab a Citi Bike. I head to Red Hook Coffee Shop for a much-needed iced cortado, then to Pitt’s to meet with Sydney, the designer, and Piotr, the contractor. We make a few decisions about booths and recessed lighting. (You’ll thank me later.) Suddenly, I realize I’m late for a podcast interview about the cookbook! I sprint back over to Red Hook Coffee Shop and take the interview from the backyard.
Back at home, I meet Mike in the kitchen, but neither of us can fathom the thought of cooking, let alone cleaning. We decide to order in from the Fly and grab a bottle of wine from Fiasco, our amazing nearby wine shop. I love the Fly specifically and rotisserie chicken generally. Theirs is briney and acidic, and it’s especially great paired with their tub of aioli. A good roast chicken with French fries and mayo would be my last meal. And I would eat it in my sweatpants, over a trash can, with my bare hands.
I round the night out writing more cookbook thank-you notes and updating the Agi’s daytime menu. My glass of wine is next to me, and season two of Charmed is playing in the background.
Wednesday, September 4
My day begins at 7 a.m. — that is, until I fall back to sleep. I’m running late! I whip up the usual smoothie and race toward Agi’s. I enter the kitchen and pick out a six-minute egg, crush some salt on it, and throw it back.
Then, I run over to the UPS store; I need to get bread crumbs to San Francisco for the upcoming dinner. They’re the Agi’s Counter Pullman bread crumbs, made by taking the scraps from our potato Pullman bread and drying them out. We mix the crumbs into our meatballs, which makes them fluffy and spongy. I know it sounds weird, but I’m adamant that I need to mail them.
I rush back to Agi’s to make an Americano, pick up my market bags, and head off to the Union Square farmers’ market, which I visit two or three times a week. I grab lovage, tomatoes, squash runners, sweet-potato leaves, flowering herbs, and a container of grapes. Back on the subway, I find a seat and start eating grapes off the vine … I think someone takes a picture of me. I probably look insane.
Back at Agi’s, I make some egg whites with one yolk, covered in hot sauce, which my staff lovingly refers to as Cyclops. I pour an iced cortado to accompany it. Today’s theme will be caffeine, I can already tell. I do a few interviews back-to-back, followed by a cocktail tasting with my friend Rob, who’s helping consult on the drink menu for Pitt’s.
After a haircut down the block, I snag some cold cuts from the basement at Agi’s and a ramekin of mustard. I get to dippin’ before my meeting with our sous-chef, Sara. A porter calls out of their night shift. While I make some calls to find a replacement, I have another iced cortado. Then, I head over to the East Village for a late workout with Tom. Sweaty and out of breath, I walk to Abraco, a coffee shop with some incredible baked goods; I love the olive-oil cake. I used to frequent it when I was the chef of the Eddy, a block over, many moons ago. I sit down and have a cappuccino while I wait to meet up with my friend Anna.
Anna is the chef and owner of Cafe Deco in London, and I did a pop-up there earlier this year. I meet her at Amor Y Amargo, a bar that specializes in amaro-based drinks and all kinds of digestifs and aperitifs from around the world. Negronis are my go-to, by far my favorite cocktail, and Amor makes a very good one. Since Anna’s visiting, I want to show her around a bit, so we move things over to Death & Co. around the corner. Somehow, we manage to get in on the first try and settle into the corner. I order the Final Act — gin and tequila based with celery and macadamia — and Anna gets the Chamber of Reflection — almost like a Bloody Mary, with dill, corn flavoring, and carrot eau-de-vie. We have a good laugh about the names.
Two drinks in, we meet Mike at Superiority Burger for a late dinner. It’s my first time going, and it’s right up my alley. We order almost the entire menu, but my favorites are the collard-green sandwich on focaccia, burnt-broccoli salad, roasted white sweet potato with pickles on top, and the salad for two. For dessert, a scoop each of melon sorbet and cherry-almond gelato.
Thursday, September 5
This morning jump starts at 5 a.m. Mike, his father George, and I are off to JFK to catch a flight to San Francisco. Mike and I haven’t packed, so we throw almost our entire closet in a suitcase and hope for the best. At the airport, I preorder an Americano and a bacon, egg, and cheese from Starbucks while shuffling through security. Yes, I am now one of those people; I have succumbed to the matrix.
After five hours of trying to sleep on the plane but barely succeeding, we land in California. We get our rental car and drive out to Marin, where we’ll be staying for the first half of the trip. But, first, we stop at Sol Food, a recommendation from our industry friends. It does not disappoint! I devour the Puerto Rican roasted chicken with rice and fried plantains covered in garlic oil. I also get a can of coconut soda for the drive to the hotel.
In the evening, we muster up the energy to take a trip out to Oakland. I’m really eager to try Snail Bar. It’s a restaurant I have admired from afar, and the chef and I have been chatting on social media. The drive is glorious — the sunset over the bay is absolutely stunning. When we get there, we find that Snail Bar is offering a raw-bar-only menu because their oven is broken. But we don’t mind at all, because this meal is incredible! We have Shigoku oysters and poached salt-spring mussels, crudités and chilled Gulf prawns with smoky cocktail sauce. There’s a tostada with delicately fanned avocado, sungold tomatoes, and coriander blossoms that blows my mind. I could have eaten ten of them. The day ends with the three of us watching the rest of the sunset while enjoying some miso ice cream from a vegan ice-cream shop called Frankie and Jo’s near the hotel.
Friday, September 6
I have not adjusted to the time difference. I wake up at 4 a.m. and decide to go to the hotel gym. After, we all grab a coffee and some very creamy oatmeal at Rustic Bakery, then hop on the ferry to San Francisco and explore the wharf. We end up getting fish tacos at a shack called the Codmother, and, before leaving the city, I grab an iced cortado.
Back in Marin, I get ready for the first pop-up dinner of the trip, at Loveski Deli, a modern take on a Jewish diner that makes all their own pastries and bagels. I’m preparing a few Agi’s staples — the beet dip with smoked-trout roe, and pork chops with plum jam and lovage, almost a hybrid between celery and parsley. I do a lot with lovage. At Agi’s, we make it in vinegar, pickle it, and, as is the case in this dish, dehydrate it and grind it into a powder.
The rest of the day is filled with noshing and tasting the food. The pop-up ends around nine. Mike, George, and I settle in at the restaurant counter and enjoy some Sonoma wine from Scribe Winery once the room finally quiets down.
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