Sunday, November 29, 2009
I can reveal that last night, November 28, 2009, was Eliot Guthrie's last night as chef at Smith. This is heartbreaking news, but I trust owner Linda Derschang has another good chef lined up.
Eliot will always be one of my favorite chefs, and I look forward to following him to his new job, wherever that may be. Good luck and thank you, Eliot!
I'm also sad to report that Smith manager Keara is moving on. Keara was (is) the hardest working person in the food industry; it was rare not to see her hustling about the room, taking care of customers, and generally exuding an air of accomplished authority that people with ten times her experience in years have trouble exhibiting. Keara will land on her feet.
It's always hard to see these kinds of changes at a beloved restaurant, and frankly, the reasons behind the changes are none of my business. I can just hope that Eliot and Keara have bright futures post-Smith and that their successors are as good as they were.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
This is the last in my New York City vacation series. You can all breath a collective sigh of relief! In the truest sense of saving the best for last, I invite you all to revel in the splendor that is the chef's tasting menu at Esca.
Here's what Esca has to say about themselves: Created by James Beard award-winning chef Dave Pasternack, Mario Batali and Joe Bastianich in October 2000, ESCA is revered for its less-is-more approach, for its elegant simplicity. In his 3-star New York Times canonization of ESCA as the ultimate Italian seafood destination in New York, Frank Bruni coined Dave as "an honest-to-God fisherman, in love with the ocean, and ESCA is his ongoing ode to it."
Mario Batali? A 3-star Bruni review? Italian seafood in NYC? I smell perfect storm...
And a very fine meal is what I got when Preston and I sat down to the six course tasting menu, accompanied by a wine paired to each course for $120 per person.
We were first served an amuse-bouche of thin sliced sashimi grade tonno with sea salt, paprika, black pepper, and the same rich olive oil I remembered from my previous visit. We had chilled vodka with this as our cocktails were not quite empty from having initially sat down.
The first proper course was a Crudo del Mercato, which that day consisted of sea urchin. Now, I'm not going to lie; this was a stretch for me. The look of the food itself was odd but the innards on the tongue resemble a cross between an oyster and that weird gelatin that sometimes shows up in chicken stock. Funky. The flavor is somewhat like that of a mild oyster; you smell the flavor through your nose more than taste it on your tongue. But while the flavor was somewhat underwhelming it was also a new lesson in food, so very welcome in the end. This was the only unknown item to me on the menu, so I appreciated the chance to try it, even if it was to come to the conclusion that I would likely not order it again. The wine pairing was a NV prosecco from Flor, Veneto.
The next course was Burrata, a magnificent combination of mozzarella and cream -- the outside is firm, pure mozzarella and the inside is mixed with cream to create a heavenly, spreadable cheese. This was topped with a generous dollop of spoonbill caviar, a light grey egg from the American sturgeon. I'd say it most resembles Sevruga, for you Caspian purists. Preston and I both loved this course which was paired with Pecorino "Aries," Ciavolich 2008 Abbruzzo.
Next up was another strong showing from the kitchen: Seppiolini. These grilled whole cuttlefish were served with radicchio and chili oil. Now, I don't mind saying that this dish made me go out and buy a bottle of chili oil the next day I returned home -- I had forgotten how wonderful it can make seafood taste with just a drizzle. It also makes great salad dressings. But I digress. The waiter advised us to be very careful of the ink, as it had a tendency to sometimes squirt out (one is reminded of Grouch Marx and a fountain pen...), but luckily Preston and I emerged without that
Monday, November 16, 2009
The meal I was most looking forward to on the NYC jaunt was our first because it was to be spent with friends including Preston, George and Michael (above; Michael runs Bergdorf Goodman's restaurants), as well as the great Jamie & Michael and Colleen (below; I'd just met Colleen for the first time and she and I share an obsession with our Blackberrys...girl, put that down!).
We gathered at Industria Argentina, on Jamie's suggestion. The restaurant features furniture, décor, wine, a chef...all from Argentina. And, of course, the cuisine reflects the flavors and styles of that culture.
My knowledge of Argentine cooking is very shallow...I was aware that there was a heavy Italian influence on it, and that it was very meat-focused. Based on that, I ordered the mollejas (pan-seared sweetbreads, over potatoes, scallions and bacon crumbles) and suggested to a friend that we share the Parrillada Completa (grilled meat selection for two including: skirt steak; sweet breads; lamb chops; sausage; blood sausage and short ribs served with mesclun and frites).
The meal was just fine. It was not a revelation of the meat cook's art (that would come later, back in Seattle and will be reported here soon!) but it was tasty. Some of the meat on the platter for two was a little overdone...like they'd tried to cook everything at once and you know that never works out. The blood sausage was by far the best offering on the plate: rich, heavy, gorgeous chew and mouthfeel. The skirt steak was a bit charred, almost dry. The fries were a little limp.
But the food could have been much worse and the evening would still have been a success. Lots of laughing, lots of catching up, lots of tales told and just a little bit of gossip related. How can you go wrong -- this is exactly what a table filled with food should inspire and nurture! Viva!
Have you ever eaten in Argentina or had Argentine food elsewhere? What's your favorite aspect of the cuisine?
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Like many European corporations, London-based Pret A Manger, the readymade restaurant people, have established their first American beachhead in New York City (with a single store in Washington, DC, as well). Ubiquitous as seeds on a bun over in the UK, in New York it's a rare and welcome site.
Many's the time a quick lunch on the Kings Road in Chelsea is had at Pret. Egg-and-cress sandwich and a packet of pickled onion crisps. In New York City, because it's so close to the Royalton, I tend to visit for breakfast...as I did most mornings of my New York City vacation.
I love Pret because everything is fresh, everything is tasty, the people working there seem glad to be doing so and you get your food fast. They may not be the most picturesque dining rooms, but neither do they resemble the feeding area of a refugee camp. And anyway, the best part of eating at Pret is sitting out front at one of the aluminum tables, watching people, cars, jets hanging in the misty clouds above, making for Heathrow.
I also love Pret for its corporate voice. I don't like cute companies. But I sure do like clever and credible ones. Here's how they describe their food on their Web site:
Pret operates a bit like a restaurant. Every Pret has its own kitchen (except for one or two of the tiny ones). You won’t find ‘sell by’ dates on our fresh sandwiches and salads. We don’t sell ‘factory’ stuff. We offer our food to charity at the end of each day rather than keep it over. We shun the obscure chemicals, additives and preservatives common to so much ‘prepared’ and ‘fast’ food. Our ingredients are delivered fresh every day. We don’t mind that fresh and fragile ingredients go off quickly – we start from scratch each morning. Our menu is updated all the time, so check back often.
What's not to love? Creamy Greek yoghurt and honey with granola was my choice whilst Preston enjoyed a breakfast sandwich on croissant. Perfect fuel for a day busting around the New York Botanical Gardens and MOMA...
Where's your favorite place to eat breakfast when you travel? Let me know in the comments.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
When I visit New York City for work or pleasure I stay at the Royalton. It's close to so many desirable places and it's close to two major taxi arterials so hailing is never a problem. The interior design of the hotel, recently updating the original designs of Philipe Starck, is also a draw.
Upon arrival this time, they provided a decadent foodstuff as a welcome back gift. These were delicious but next time I want a bottle of Finlandia instead of the Fiji water!
One of the best New York restaurants my friend John Weiler has introduced to me is the Blue Ribbon Brasserie, which got its start way back in 1992. Strangely, I don't mind the near-three dimensional stacking of patrons atop one another, the tiny tables, the (usually brief) wait. The service brings me back, as does the food.
This visit was on Halloween night when -- after an abandoned taxi to Washington Square, a sudden squall of rain, a mad dash down 6th past crowds and floats and costumed denizens of the Greenwich Village Halloween Parade, and a slow walk through the damp charming side streets -- we finally arrived at the door. Of a very full restaurant and bar. And were promptly seated at the same table where I'd been seated with John on my previous visit. Thank you gods of tired and wet diners. We owe you, big time.
As will happen in a restaurant with such proximity amongst patrons, immediately we were pulled into the conversations on either side of us: to the left, two men of near-60 discussed the major milestones of their lives and debated whether or not each had been worth achieving; to the right, one of those dozens, maybe hundreds, of couples pretending to be Isabel and Ruben Toledo (dressed a little bit like Dali and Gala; speaking just a little too loudly; accents of unknown origin; alluding to talismans of wealth: "When we go to the house this weekend." and "Have you called Bentley?").
Our first course consisted of fruits de mer in the form of one dozen Hood Canal oysters and a chilled half lobster, washed down with Santenay-Gravieres 2005 from Domaine Jessiaume. Sue me.
Blue Ribbon's menu is at once breathtaking and...breathtaking. In the former sense for its audacity (pigeon with toasted barley, sweet potato and apple! Really?!? Pigeon, in THIS city?) paired with some really rather gorgeous set-ups and, in the latter sense, for the inevitable discovery that something in this Mad Hatter's Tea Party won't be done as well as it might have been done if focus had been a bit more in attendance.
Nonetheless, tonight's entrées generally impressed one much more often than not. My rack of lamb with spinach and potato cake was an over-serving of meat, in my opinion. Two racks of that size would have looked more gracious instead of the cluttery trio. Nonetheless, one rises to certain occasions and with no lagging I did dispatch that rack and its two friends. And spinach. And potato cake. The lamb was served splendidly medium, as requested, and the sides, while not terribly memorable, did nothing whatsoever to detract as one might witness below. Call them neutral sides. All very Swiss, somehow.
I had a few glasses of Tempranillo, Vina Sastre, Roble, 2003 and it was entirely serviceable to the situation.
By the time we'd finished dining and slipped out the front door, into the rainwater-sheen streets, the two to our left -- after a titanic row over credit cards -- had already departed, having fully assessed their lives. And Isabel and her Ruben were still there, on the right, desperately trying to create one.
Sorry for the tardiness that has informed my New York City food recap! I got sick and then needed some time away from the daily posting schedule I had established for myself here at A Life of Food. I am going to commit to "posting frequently" but not, perhaps, daily. Got it? OK, let's talk NYC chow...
I'm going to post several different articles about my dining experiences in NYC, but the first will encompass the first meal that I experienced as part of the vacation, as well as the last. That's right, the paragon of cuisine: airline meals!
Actually, my traveling companion Preston and I were in luck because I'd secured first class transcontinental tickets on Delta. Now, don't get me wrong -- I know that Delta's first class dining provision ain't no Pan Am-wheel-up-the-carving-table kind of service. But it's some of the best in domestic travel, and showed as much on this journey.
Breakfast to NYC (pictured above) consisted of a surprisingly delicious, fluffy cheese and mushroom omelet, roasted potatoes and hot links. All pretty darn good, and the serving size was generous in this era of airline "meals" consisting of a slice of dessicated salami and a thumbnail-size chunk of Laughing Cow.
The fruit on the side was also good, and notable for not being overloaded with the dread pineapple...one of the only foods I find truly abhorrent. Alas, the croissant was a dreadful, over-large affair, like several slices of Wonder Bread shaped to resemble what should have been an airy French pastry.
The trip back also held its rewards, featuring a dinner service.
The salad was quite large; the lettuce and bits and bobs all crisp and fresh. The small serving of grapes were all plump and juicy as opposed to withering and chewy-skinned. The wheat roll accompanying the meal was also fresh and substantial, perfect for mopping up the remains of the entrée: roast beef, mashed potatoes and steamed squash.
I have to say that the roast was delicious, nothing less than fork tender and full of flavor. The squash were also surprisingly well-cooked, holding some firmness as opposed to being a watery glop. The potatoes, while not bad, were the weakest link, having that flakes-from-a-box staleness about them, as well as a bit too much salt.
All in all, I'd have to say dining at 37,000 feet was delightful. For a foodie, airline meals will never likely achieve Hall of Fame status for taste and presentation, but I appreciate Delta's obvious efforts to source fresh ingredients and present simple dishes that taste quite good. It just goes to show that no matter where you are on the earth -- or far above it -- you don't have to leave your life of food behind!
Friday, November 13, 2009
Fall is my favorite season.
The clothes (wooly sweaters and pants, hats, gloves, scarves.). The light (low and bright in the afternoon). The smells (wood fires, rain-soaked leaves). The sounds (the patter of raindrops on the window as one falls asleep or as one drinks Sunday coffee with the New York Times and the cat competing for lap space).
And, of course, the food. The sudden emergence -- and relevance -- of comfort food that in Summer is too heavy, and now is so perfect. Braising. Baking. The addition of nuts. The addition of duck fat. The gorgeous drizzles of reduced balsamic and citrus juices intermingling with the juices of meats.
Last night I prepared what turned out to be the perfect Fall meal...
The starter was a roasted Winter squash and parsnips with maple syrup glaze and Marcona almonds. I roasted the vegetables for about 15 minutes longer than the recipe calls for, looking to get a little more of a "roasted" color on the squash, as opposed to the cleaner colors of a steamed vegetable. I also served the dish with a generous crumbling of Cotija cheese, which provided both a welcome, mild saltiness and a binding agent for the various squash. The vegetables are seen in the photo above, ready for the oven.
The main course was inspired by the recent Wild Beast feast at Lark, about which I will post soon. Suffice it to say, I wanted to serve my beef-despising guest a red meat that he would enjoy on what had turned out to be a cold, wet, windy night. I chose venison, and sourced it from the wonderful bijou meat shop University Seafood and Poultry. The recipe I used as inspiration was medallions of venison with port and cranberries.
As usual, I took liberties. The most significant was to add two handfuls of fresh cranberries to the reducing sauce at the same time as adding the port, which you can clearly see in the photo above. This gave a much more attractive cast to the final sauce -- the barely intact fresh berries standing out from the otherwise smooth sauce, giving it a more rustic appearance to the eye and texture to the tongue. I ended up giving each medallion about 5 minutes on each side, broken up in a 2-minute/2-minute/1-minute cadence per side. This resulted in a medium meat, just pink inside.
Welcome Fall and all you bring to our life of food!
Ladies and gentlemen, please join me in welcoming the impossibly charming and erudite Mr. Alan Linck.
Alan always makes me bring my A-game to the dining table...a cook of great accomplishment in his own right, he works with food every day in his role as a produce manager for a famous high-end grocer. His familiarity with food and wine is deep, so one serves him out-of-a-box macaroni with cheese at their grave peril. And don't even think about beef!
On this evening, Alan is enjoying a glass of Lalande-de-Pomerol.
An item of note: Mr. Linck once lived in an apartment attached to a funeral home, where, together, we watched all the seasons of Six Feet Under on DVD.
I'm looking forward to Alan's next visit!