Inside my fridge is a jar with a faded, almost indiscernible label. Its contents are equally hard to define but I’ll try my best. It’s a spicy tomato based preserve, somewhere between a relish and a chili paste. It has the consistency and appearance of Mexican restaurant salsa. I’ve used it in a variety of ways, usually when pantry staples are lacking. In curries it works for kick and flavor, when kashmiri or other dried chili powders are not on hand. In pasta sauces it has doubled up for Calabrian chili paste, offering a similar savory depth combined with a pleasant, oily heat. Despite its versatility and unique taste, I find the best vehicle for it to be enjoyed is in a simple cheese sandwich. Bread, cheddar and the hot stuff, spread thinly over butter- like Marmite.
If you hadn’t guessed by my last remark, I’m from Britain (Wales, more specifically) though I’m living in Canada now. I first picked up a jar of this chili ambrosia in the old market from the town I was born in, about 10 years ago. Since moving to Ontario in 2017, my mother has dutifully provided me with a jar ever since, in care packages containing other home comforts like my favorite tea bags and chocolate.
Sometime last year I was informed that the stall at the market selling the jars had gone. Its owner had died and the family had moved on. Or so it was reported bluntly to my mother by a moody woman selling cheese. I knew very little about the family, other than that their origin was Hungarian, understanding nothing about what brought them to Wales or the secrets behind their product. The only trace I have of them now is roughly three or four teaspoons that I’m reluctant to finish. Upon the label of the jar is a blur of ingredients, an indistinct email address and a Clip-art level design that reads ‘Chilli Sensation: Hot But Nice.’
This whole occurrence has got me thinking a lot about food, memory and the role of taste in grief. It’s a profound feeling, the realization that you will never ever taste something the same way again. You can feel it in a domestic sense, knowing that a favorite meal a loved one makes can never be replicated where they’re gone. Yet it can also be experienced in a less intimate manner which; I’d argue, is felt more frequently in our increasingly globalized world.
“It’s a profound feeling, the realization that you will never ever taste something the same way again.”
I’m talking about that special establishment you loved that’s gone and never coming back. During the pandemic we all mourned the closure of them. Favorite bars and restaurants, already struggling with the demands placed on them by undercutting competition from corporate chains or rapid rent increases that walk hand in hand with gentrification. More recently there is the phenomenon of smaller, ‘proudly independent’ businesses becoming more ubiquitous and same-y as the influence of social media becomes all the more encompassing. In my little rust-belt enclave 4 hours south of Toronto, I’ve begun to notice businesses with the same feel and experience of bigger cities. I call them ‘Toronto-y’ places, but in reality they could be any Western urban center at this point. It’s that plant-draped “highly grammable’ coffee shop today. How it looks tomorrow, the algorithm decides.
Antidotal to this, Bixlers took the time to speak with the *not so* new kid on the block, Marks Off Madison. A New York brasserie that by misfortune opened on the brink of the first lockdown of March 2020. Thankfully It weathered the storm and has since established itself with a diverse menu of both casual and high-end cuisine. All the while remaining respectful to the tried and tested traditions practiced by its owner Mark Strausman, a New Yorker who received his culinary training in Michelin starred restaurants across Europe in the 1980s. Chef Mark Strausman and Marks Off Madison remains devoted to their uniqueness and to their cause. In doing so, they demand your devotion too.
Mark Strausman has been a chef and restaurateur for 35 years, working in esteemed hotels and kitchens across Europe as well as running some of New York’s best loved and most successful eateries. Campagna came first in 1994, introducing Strausman’s ‘updated’ Italian peasant cooking to immediate acclaim. Fred at Barney’s followed, a bistro which combined upscale American dining with comfort food and classics including luxurious pastas, freshly made bagels served alongside platters of smoked fish and their much lauded ‘chopped chicken salad’. This hybrid approach to casual and gourmet informs his most recent venture, Marks Off Madison.
Strausman grew up in a melting pot of culture in Queens, which he describes as a ‘village’ that influenced the type of food he serves.
MOM’s three menus (brunch, lunch and dinner) contain no shortage of items which pay respect to his Jewish heritage. Bialy bread rolls baked on premises, hand cured lox, chicken soup with matzo and even more pointedly, a sandwich named ‘Jewish Boy from Queens’ (freshly-roasted turkey, coleslaw, Russian dressing on homemade deli rye with pickles, homemade potato chips.
“(In) New York, the locals love you when you have one restaurant. When you have two, everyone starts to check you out, when you have three they hate you.”
Deli and diner staples sit confidently alongside Italian and French classics like bouillabaisse and eggplant parmigiana, made with all the delicate duty that tradition expects of it. Mark is outspoken with firm opinions about food along with an acute sense of how things ‘should be’ when it comes to preparation and serving. Interestingly, this notion of how things should be isn’t always fundamental or traditional and he does not shy away from blending different styles of cooking that he has picked up from his long career. There is no better example of this than his approach to making bagels using French technique and fermentation in order to recreate smaller, crisper ‘baguette like’ bagels that he remembers from childhood. His broad and tough New York accent belies a geniality and sense of care. His eyes seem to sparkle as he talks us through just some of the hundreds of items on offer at his restaurant.
‘What I do is peasant cooking. I’m not into emulsions. Foam and that. We’re always evolving and making changes. But you have to develop a foundation of classics. All of the salads. The OG Madison, the chop chicken, Palm Beach. Those are all staples. The club sandwich. It’s the classic club sandwich done well. We roast turkeys every day.’’
He speaks most proudly of all about his bespoke approach to sourcing ingredients and the lengths taken in order to guarantee quality. ‘I buy from purveyors that are similar to our DNA. I don’t buy from Cisco or US foods. If I walk past my buyers on the street, or at a trade show, we’d give each other a big hug. We have a mushroom purveyor - this guy dabbles in all wild mushrooms, all kinds of interesting food, you know? Stuff that’s not necessarily available 365 days a year. We work with masterminds and he’s the mastermind when it comes to mushrooms. He has owned his company for 35 years. It’s all about relationships, you know. Think about the mushroom guy. When somebody’s got only 15 pounds of diamonds. They’re going to give them to the people they like.”
At the age of 67, Stausman views Marks Off Madison as a culmination of his biography and his career. He calls it his ‘greatest hits’ and these ‘numbers’ can only be heard at one place as Mark explains. ‘New York, the locals love you when you have one restaurant. When you have two, everyone starts to check you out, when you have three they hate you. It’s just the values you know, it waters you down. It becomes homogeneous.”
Chef Mark Strausman has that rare business mind that never overrules the needs of his neighborhood. If you find yourself in New York we implore you to check out this local institution and admire in person MOM’s devotion to their craft. In the meantime, go seek out that gem in your own community. That diner, that dive bar, the old pizzeria, the Ethiopian restaurant, the Indian place, the family owned Chinese takeout, the fish fry, the Middle Eastern bakery, the Filipino food truck, the taquería. These places tell their stories within their walls and on their menus better than any ‘our story’ blurb accessed via QR code ever could. Go see them. They’ll be pleased to see you.
Mark’s Off Madison, 41 Madison Ave Ground Level, New York, NY
Words: Kieran Owen
