A taste (and I mean, just a taste) of sublime, tender, juicy pastrami prepared by Chef de Cuisine J.P. Carmona as an amuse at the Iron Chef dinner at Manresa Restaurant a couple of months ago fired up my pastrami craving. Otherwise, I have found to date no place on the West Coast, in either Northern or Southern California, that matches the platonic ideal of the pastrami from Katz's Deli in Manhattan (although The Refuge in San Carlos probably comes closest, notwithstanding the mildly spongy texture and slight cinnamony flavor).
I have generally been so impressed with the artisan sandwiches and salads created by the crew at Kitchenette, a little catering outpost on the edge of San Francisco in an area that looks like a cleaned-up version of Thunderdome, that I purposely manufactured a reason to be in the City on the day they posted pastrami on the menu. Yet even Kitchenette's pastrami disappointed. Too chewy, too peppery, with the necessary interspersed fat layers gristly instead of melty.
I gave up and ordered pastrami from Katz's on line (more feasible than begging a Michelin two-star restaurant to make me a sandwich). It suffered a bit in transit, and probably the first and only time I would pay over $20 for a sandwich, but it assuaged my craving for the time being short of actually flying to New York. I am not quite that crazy yet.
Other cravings that all seem to require travel, some farther than others: ramen, burger, pizza, fried chicken.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Conversations with the Chef
Whenever possible, my favorite way to eat in a restaurant is "omakase," i.e., chef's choice. Of course, this generally only works in restaurants I have frequented previously, although it also works sometimes in places with open kitchens where the chef notices that I am eating everything not nailed down, or at least not faster than my fork, chopsticks, or fingers.
The best part of omakase dining is the opportunity to try something new or unusual, which might include something that the chef is excited about having recently created or something he enjoys eating himself (I am referring to the chefs I know, who happen to be male, so I am not intending to be sexist with this pronoun usage). Sometimes the chef is testing something out on me, which is flattering as well as fun. Sometimes the chef is showing off to remind me that his kitchen prowess is even greater than hitherto expected. Sometimes the chef is treating me to a taste of something extraordinary because he knows I am celebrating a special occasion (which can frankly be just eating at his restaurant).
The stressful part is when the chef comes by to say hello or checks in to see how I like a particular dish. I have just experienced an incredible expression of the chef's artistry. What words can I use to convey on the spot, at that moment in time, not only mesmerized by the flavors I had just experienced but also with whatever minimal literary skills I possess further impaired by the accompanying wine or sake, exactly how mindblowing the poached geoduck with ponzu and grated daikon was, how the flavor of the freshly shucked baby peas melted in my mouth with the white chocolate and mint, or how the pink, tender duck breast slices with their outlines of savory, melty, charred fat blended perfectly with the chewy, earthy and creamy farro risotto.
As highly descriptive words like "wonderful" or "delicious" escape from my mouth, I want to yell, do you have any idea how amazing this food is?
Thankfully for most of these chefs the answer is of course I do, you silly drunk person.
The best part of omakase dining is the opportunity to try something new or unusual, which might include something that the chef is excited about having recently created or something he enjoys eating himself (I am referring to the chefs I know, who happen to be male, so I am not intending to be sexist with this pronoun usage). Sometimes the chef is testing something out on me, which is flattering as well as fun. Sometimes the chef is showing off to remind me that his kitchen prowess is even greater than hitherto expected. Sometimes the chef is treating me to a taste of something extraordinary because he knows I am celebrating a special occasion (which can frankly be just eating at his restaurant).
The stressful part is when the chef comes by to say hello or checks in to see how I like a particular dish. I have just experienced an incredible expression of the chef's artistry. What words can I use to convey on the spot, at that moment in time, not only mesmerized by the flavors I had just experienced but also with whatever minimal literary skills I possess further impaired by the accompanying wine or sake, exactly how mindblowing the poached geoduck with ponzu and grated daikon was, how the flavor of the freshly shucked baby peas melted in my mouth with the white chocolate and mint, or how the pink, tender duck breast slices with their outlines of savory, melty, charred fat blended perfectly with the chewy, earthy and creamy farro risotto.
As highly descriptive words like "wonderful" or "delicious" escape from my mouth, I want to yell, do you have any idea how amazing this food is?
Thankfully for most of these chefs the answer is of course I do, you silly drunk person.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Places I've Eaten in Tokyo
**Places I would go back to eat
*Closed
Birdland
Butagumi
Chisen
Daiwa Sushi (cash only)
Elevage
Esaki
Harukiya (cash only)
Ivan Ramen (cash only ordering machine)
Jangara Ramen
Kagurazaka Ishikawa
Kebab Box
Koju
Kyorakutei
Maison de Caviar Beluga
Motoyama Milk Bar
Nemuri-an (cash only)
Nenrinya
Nihombashi Isesada
Numazu Uogashi Zushi
La Rochelle
Rokukakutei
Rokusan-tei
Ryugin
Salvatore
San Marco Curry House
Snaffles
Sukiyabashi Jiro Ginza (cash only)
Sushi Dai (cash only)
Sushi Isano (near Ebisu Garden)
Sushi Mizutani (cash only)
Sushi Sukeroku
Tempura Motoyoshi (cash only)
Tetsugama (cash only ordering machine)
Tokyo Ramen Street Hirugao (cash only ordering machine)
Tokyo Ramen Street Rokurinsha (cash only ordering machine)
Tsurutanton
Tonki
UCC Cafe Plaza
Ukai-tei
** I had some difficulty making this decision for the places I tried in Tokyo-- for the opposite reason from the Lake Tahoe eateries. For some, where the hype and the actual experience were quite disparate, the election was quite easy. For others, I went back and forth because if it were not for the travel and expense involved, I would certainly have marked it among the italicized "Places I would go back to eat," except that in reality, I would likely not actually go back the next time I return to Tokyo because there are so many other places I would like to try (not sure when but still fun to daydream about) and frankly, there are less expensive places in the United States that I like better.
I need to learn to read Japanese. The most intriguing places have no English menus and no pictures or plastic food displays ...
*Closed
Birdland
Butagumi
Chisen
Daiwa Sushi (cash only)
Elevage
Esaki
Harukiya (cash only)
Ivan Ramen (cash only ordering machine)
Jangara Ramen
Kagurazaka Ishikawa
Kebab Box
Koju
Kyorakutei
Maison de Caviar Beluga
Motoyama Milk Bar
Nemuri-an (cash only)
Nenrinya
Nihombashi Isesada
Numazu Uogashi Zushi
La Rochelle
Rokukakutei
Rokusan-tei
Ryugin
Salvatore
San Marco Curry House
Snaffles
Sukiyabashi Jiro Ginza (cash only)
Sushi Dai (cash only)
Sushi Isano (near Ebisu Garden)
Sushi Mizutani (cash only)
Sushi Sukeroku
Tempura Motoyoshi (cash only)
Tetsugama (cash only ordering machine)
Tokyo Ramen Street Hirugao (cash only ordering machine)
Tokyo Ramen Street Rokurinsha (cash only ordering machine)
Tsurutanton
Tonki
UCC Cafe Plaza
Ukai-tei
** I had some difficulty making this decision for the places I tried in Tokyo-- for the opposite reason from the Lake Tahoe eateries. For some, where the hype and the actual experience were quite disparate, the election was quite easy. For others, I went back and forth because if it were not for the travel and expense involved, I would certainly have marked it among the italicized "Places I would go back to eat," except that in reality, I would likely not actually go back the next time I return to Tokyo because there are so many other places I would like to try (not sure when but still fun to daydream about) and frankly, there are less expensive places in the United States that I like better.
I need to learn to read Japanese. The most intriguing places have no English menus and no pictures or plastic food displays ...
Tuesday, April 07, 2009
Another Reason To Look Forward to Summer
Top Chef Masters coming in June. I can't help it; I'm addicted.
Monday, March 30, 2009
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Ingredient Issues
I read an awful lot of complaints about people being sick of tuna tartare. What is rarely discussed in those complaints is the reason why so many tuna tartares are lackluster-- most places that offer the dish do not know how to treat the ingredient. From the hands of talented chefs, I would not mind eating tuna tartare everyday. For example, when Sarah Schafer was at Frisson, she offered a clean, beautiful tuna tartare with wasabi sorbet. Bruce Hill has always been a master of tuna tartare and his version offered at Picco, with shiso, soy, sesame, and Asian pear on crispy, chewy sushi-rice blini, is positively addictive. Even Sushi of Gari offers a tuna tartare sushi, with rice-flour deep fried wakame "chips" layered between the soy-sesame-sake marinated tuna on top and the rice "quenelle" underneath.
My main complaint these days though is not about tuna tartare. I know where to find the good ones, who I trust to prepare it, and to avoid the rest. My gripe today is about sweetbreads-- another ingredient whose popularity seems to be inversely proportional to the number of preparations executed well.
Don't get me wrong-- I am definitely happy not to see much of the gamey, not completely cleaned, brainey, undercooked variety anymore-- I have no interest in bidding for Andrew Zimmern's job. While I am happy to see sweetbreads offered on more restaurant menus, I am finding that the ubiquitousness of this one safe offal has resulted in most variations being bland and disappointing. Why is it that chefs who are so particular about everything else have no problems overcooking sweetbreads, turning them into essentially tasteless kernels of dessicated chicken nuggets, and then trying to hide the fact that it has been mistreated with lots of bacon (although I have to admit that one is not necessarily the worst strategy), layers of thick chicken-fried batter, or worst yet, some affected top shelf attempt at a sweet and sour sauce (do not even get me started on restaurants that still insist on trying to relive the Wolfgang Puck 80's).
Like with tuna tartare, I keep trying them, hoping someone would make them taste as good as they can be. Because when they are prepared well, they can be truly magnificent.
My main complaint these days though is not about tuna tartare. I know where to find the good ones, who I trust to prepare it, and to avoid the rest. My gripe today is about sweetbreads-- another ingredient whose popularity seems to be inversely proportional to the number of preparations executed well.
Don't get me wrong-- I am definitely happy not to see much of the gamey, not completely cleaned, brainey, undercooked variety anymore-- I have no interest in bidding for Andrew Zimmern's job. While I am happy to see sweetbreads offered on more restaurant menus, I am finding that the ubiquitousness of this one safe offal has resulted in most variations being bland and disappointing. Why is it that chefs who are so particular about everything else have no problems overcooking sweetbreads, turning them into essentially tasteless kernels of dessicated chicken nuggets, and then trying to hide the fact that it has been mistreated with lots of bacon (although I have to admit that one is not necessarily the worst strategy), layers of thick chicken-fried batter, or worst yet, some affected top shelf attempt at a sweet and sour sauce (do not even get me started on restaurants that still insist on trying to relive the Wolfgang Puck 80's).
Like with tuna tartare, I keep trying them, hoping someone would make them taste as good as they can be. Because when they are prepared well, they can be truly magnificent.
Sunday, January 04, 2009
Frustrated With Top Chef
Does it seem that Top Chef should be more appropriately titled Top Caterer?
Do we really care how well the cheftestants prepare hors d'oeuvres on steam tables for 400 people? As if that Today Show bit was not bad enough-- are we really looking for the Next Food Network Star with Season 5?
Wondering if Food Network's shortened version, Chopped, will be any better. (Answer: No, but Chopped All-Stars was fun to watch)
I am still curious to see whether Fabio, Stefan, and Jamie can really cook. And not for a party of 800. Isn't that why Colicchio is doing Tuesdays with Tom, as opposed opening yet another Lettuce Entertain You type restaurant in Las Vegas or Houston or Atlantic City?
Lastly, how many contrived lines do you think Toby Young prepares in advance of each taping, hoping to come across as clever and/or funny, achieving neither?
Do we really care how well the cheftestants prepare hors d'oeuvres on steam tables for 400 people? As if that Today Show bit was not bad enough-- are we really looking for the Next Food Network Star with Season 5?
Wondering if Food Network's shortened version, Chopped, will be any better. (Answer: No, but Chopped All-Stars was fun to watch)
I am still curious to see whether Fabio, Stefan, and Jamie can really cook. And not for a party of 800. Isn't that why Colicchio is doing Tuesdays with Tom, as opposed opening yet another Lettuce Entertain You type restaurant in Las Vegas or Houston or Atlantic City?
Lastly, how many contrived lines do you think Toby Young prepares in advance of each taping, hoping to come across as clever and/or funny, achieving neither?
Friday, October 10, 2008
"How Is Everything?"
I never know quite how to respond when servers sweep by to inquire how the food is. Most of the time, I assume the question is perfunctory, like the "how are you" question that people throw at each other in passing in elevators or hallways at the office. No one really expects a genuine answer to that question, but sometimes when servers ask and wait as though they are looking for a real response, I fall into the trap of answering. Call me Charlie Brown.
In my profession, when I can give specific criticism, that means the work product I received is not bad, possibly even quite good in the overall scheme of things. When the work product is in a condition that I cannot identify specifics to fix but instead just need to take the whole thing back and redo it, that is when things are truly problematic. So when my answer to the server's question is "fine," and I'm pushing food around on my plate, it is not good, but what am I going to say? Your food sucks, and I can't even begin to explain everything that is wrong with it? So I don't bother and instead say "fine." Then they walk away, and so do I.
Every once in a while, I end up answering honestly, but then almost always regret it as soon as the words, "the ___ was underseasoned," or "this combination doesn't really work for me," tumble out of my mouth. I may think I'm providing feedback that is being requested, but then I see the look of panic cross the server's face that reads, oh crap, they hate it so we need to replace it, comp it, give them something else, or comp dessert, or some variation thereof-- none of which I want. For the most part, the only time I answer substantively to the question, "how is it," is when I think 90% is good, but it could be better.
From the server's perspective, I can certainly appreciate that their sole objective is to make a seemingly unhappy customer happy, but it is never my intent to make people jump through hoops. I tend to ask if I want something fixed and I believe there is someone capable of fixing it for me. But I also understand that servers have to deal with the quandry of people who secretly want something else but will insist otherwise while continuing to complain (something I have never understood).
So what happens in my case? I tell the server, "the pasta is a little overcooked," in response to his or her question. The server freaks out and offers to give me something else. The manager or front-of-the-house (or sometimes even the chef, eek) comes over to try to "fix the problem." I say no, that's fine, I don't want anything else, things were generally great, I was just answering a question honestly. They don't believe me and give me a free dessert, which I am too full to eat, but I now feel guilty so I try to eat as much as I can (and not say anything about the fact that the dessert is really not chocolate panna cotta as described, but more like a somewhat clunky chocolate pudding trifle). And then I proceed to grossly overtip because I still feel guilty (e.g., $35 on a $90 check). Because for the most part, I really did enjoy my meal; I just thought it could have been better because the kitchen is clearly talented.
You would think I would have learned to keep my mouth shut. "Does this make me look fat?" No, honey, absolutely not. You look fine.
In my profession, when I can give specific criticism, that means the work product I received is not bad, possibly even quite good in the overall scheme of things. When the work product is in a condition that I cannot identify specifics to fix but instead just need to take the whole thing back and redo it, that is when things are truly problematic. So when my answer to the server's question is "fine," and I'm pushing food around on my plate, it is not good, but what am I going to say? Your food sucks, and I can't even begin to explain everything that is wrong with it? So I don't bother and instead say "fine." Then they walk away, and so do I.
Every once in a while, I end up answering honestly, but then almost always regret it as soon as the words, "the ___ was underseasoned," or "this combination doesn't really work for me," tumble out of my mouth. I may think I'm providing feedback that is being requested, but then I see the look of panic cross the server's face that reads, oh crap, they hate it so we need to replace it, comp it, give them something else, or comp dessert, or some variation thereof-- none of which I want. For the most part, the only time I answer substantively to the question, "how is it," is when I think 90% is good, but it could be better.
From the server's perspective, I can certainly appreciate that their sole objective is to make a seemingly unhappy customer happy, but it is never my intent to make people jump through hoops. I tend to ask if I want something fixed and I believe there is someone capable of fixing it for me. But I also understand that servers have to deal with the quandry of people who secretly want something else but will insist otherwise while continuing to complain (something I have never understood).
So what happens in my case? I tell the server, "the pasta is a little overcooked," in response to his or her question. The server freaks out and offers to give me something else. The manager or front-of-the-house (or sometimes even the chef, eek) comes over to try to "fix the problem." I say no, that's fine, I don't want anything else, things were generally great, I was just answering a question honestly. They don't believe me and give me a free dessert, which I am too full to eat, but I now feel guilty so I try to eat as much as I can (and not say anything about the fact that the dessert is really not chocolate panna cotta as described, but more like a somewhat clunky chocolate pudding trifle). And then I proceed to grossly overtip because I still feel guilty (e.g., $35 on a $90 check). Because for the most part, I really did enjoy my meal; I just thought it could have been better because the kitchen is clearly talented.
You would think I would have learned to keep my mouth shut. "Does this make me look fat?" No, honey, absolutely not. You look fine.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
The Magnificent Seven
Among the chefs who continually impress and inspire:
Jeremy Fox: Such a bad ass that he doesn't even need protein to impress diners with his culinary prowess.
David Kinch: Such a bad ass that he can open a restaurant where he wants to live so that people come to him to experience his two Michelin star fare (he deserves all three).
Johnny Monis: Such a bad ass that he does all tasting menus all the time in his matchbox kitchen and is named in Food & Wine's Hall of Fame Chefs (rightly so) only one year after he is named among the Best New Chefs, all at the ripe old age of 28.
Sang Yoon: Such a bad ass that he serves food the way he wants, no substitutions, no modifications, take it or leave it.
Dennis Leary: Such a bad ass that he himself is cooking breakfast, lunch, and dinner in his two restaurants, with no investors to tell him what to do.
Sam Sugiyama: Such a bad ass that at age 60+, he works alongside his cooks every lunch and dinner, running effectively two restaurants in one, with modern ginza-style omakase sushi behind the scenes and a dragon roll/spicy tuna hellish extragavanza in the main dining room.
Sotohiro Kosugi: Such a bad ass that he can transplant his restaurant from Atlanta to Manhattan without missing a beat. If you want unforgettable Japanese cuisine but lack the net worth to splurge on Masa's, head down to the village and experience the most sublime and authentic fare of all time.
What these bad-ass chefs have in common:
They are all in their kitchens, touching, tasting, and/or seeing the plates that go out. Thank goodness for their obsessive-compulsive tendencies.
Jeremy Fox: Such a bad ass that he doesn't even need protein to impress diners with his culinary prowess.
David Kinch: Such a bad ass that he can open a restaurant where he wants to live so that people come to him to experience his two Michelin star fare (he deserves all three).
Johnny Monis: Such a bad ass that he does all tasting menus all the time in his matchbox kitchen and is named in Food & Wine's Hall of Fame Chefs (rightly so) only one year after he is named among the Best New Chefs, all at the ripe old age of 28.
Sang Yoon: Such a bad ass that he serves food the way he wants, no substitutions, no modifications, take it or leave it.
Dennis Leary: Such a bad ass that he himself is cooking breakfast, lunch, and dinner in his two restaurants, with no investors to tell him what to do.
Sam Sugiyama: Such a bad ass that at age 60+, he works alongside his cooks every lunch and dinner, running effectively two restaurants in one, with modern ginza-style omakase sushi behind the scenes and a dragon roll/spicy tuna hellish extragavanza in the main dining room.
Sotohiro Kosugi: Such a bad ass that he can transplant his restaurant from Atlanta to Manhattan without missing a beat. If you want unforgettable Japanese cuisine but lack the net worth to splurge on Masa's, head down to the village and experience the most sublime and authentic fare of all time.
What these bad-ass chefs have in common:
They are all in their kitchens, touching, tasting, and/or seeing the plates that go out. Thank goodness for their obsessive-compulsive tendencies.
Monday, August 18, 2008
Omnivore's 100
See Becks & Posh (citing Very Good Taste)
According to the instructions, I am supposed to bold the items eaten and cross out any items I would never consider eating. For clarity, however, I have indicated yes or no next to the items, and I am not crossing anything off, as I am willing to try anything once.
1. Venison: yes (as well as venison jerky and venison sausage)
2. Nettle tea: nettle yes; nettle tea no
3. Huevos rancheros: yes
4. Steak tartare: yes
5. Crocodile: yes
6. Black pudding: yes
7. Cheese fondue: yes
8. Carp: yes
9. Borscht: I believe I have
10. Baba ghanoush: I believe I have
11. Calamari: yes
12. Pho: yes
13. PB&J sandwich: yes
14. Aloo gobi: I believe I have
15. Hot dog from a street cart: yes
16. Epoisses: yes
17. Black truffle: yes
18. Fruit wine made from something other than grapes: yes (olallieberry and pineapple, but not together)
19. Steamed pork buns: yes
20. Pistachio ice cream: yes
21. Heirloom tomatoes: yes
22. Fresh wild berries: yes
23. Foie gras: yes (for as long as possible)
24. Rice and beans: yes
25. Brawn or head cheese: yes
26. Raw Scotch Bonnet pepper: no
27. Dulce de leche: yes
28. Oysters: yes
29. Baklava: yes
30. Bagna cauda: I believe I have
31. Wasabi peas: yes
32. Clam chowder in a sourdough bowl: yes
33. Salted lassi: I believe I have
34. Sauerkraut: yes
35. Root beer float: yes
36. Cognac with a fat cigar: cognac yes; fat cigar yes; but together not sure (prefer scotch with cigar)
37. Clotted cream tea: no
38. Vodka jelly/Jell-O: yes (but not past the age of twenty-one)
39. Gumbo: yes
40. Oxtail: yes
41. Curried goat: curry yes; goat yes; curried goat no
42. Whole insects: yes (but I did not know what they were at the time; I thought they were some type of roasted nuts)
43. Phaal: I believe I have
44. Goat’s milk: as an ingredient yes; straight no
45. Malt whisky from a bottle worth £60/$120 or more: yes
46. Fugu: no (sadly now illegal to import into United States)
47. Chicken tikka masala: yes
48. Eel: yes
49. Krispy Kreme original glazed doughnut: yes
50. Sea urchin: yes
51. Prickly pear: yes
52. Umeboshi: yes
53. Abalone: yes
54. Paneer: no
55. McDonald’s Big Mac Meal: yes
56. Spaetzle: yes
57. Dirty gin martini: yes (but prefer martini with twist)
58. Beer above 8% ABV (alcohol by volume): I believe I have
59. Poutine: yes
60. Carob chips: yes
61. S’mores: yes
62. Sweetbreads: yes
63. Kaolin: no
64. Currywurst: yes
65. Durian: yes
66. Frogs’ legs: yes
67. Beignets, churros, elephant ears or funnel cake: yes; yes; no; yes
68. Haggis: yes
69. Fried plantain: plantain yes; deep-fried no
70. Chitterlings, or andouillette: I am not sure (not opposed to any offal, particularly in sausage form, but no specific recollection of chitterlings)
71. Gazpacho: yes
72. Caviar and blini: yes (separately and together)
73. Louche absinthe: no
74. Gjetost, or brunost: no
75. Roadkill: ?? What constitutes roadkill? I suppose I have never scooped up roadkill and eaten it, so no
76. Baijiu: yes
77. Hostess Fruit Pie: yes
78. Snail: yes
79. Lapsang souchong: yes
80. Bellini: yes
81. Tom yum: yes
82. Eggs Benedict: yes
83. Pocky: yes
84. Tasting menu at a three-Michelin-star restaurant: yes
85. Kobe beef: yes
86. Hare: rabbit yes; hare no
87. Goulash: I believe I have
88. Flowers: yes
89. Horse: no
90. Criollo chocolate: no
91. Spam: yes
92. Soft shell crab: yes
93. Rose harissa: harissa yes; rose harissa no
94. Catfish: yes
95. Mole poblano: yes
96. Bagel and lox: yes
97. Lobster Thermidor: yes
98. Polenta: yes
99. Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee: yes
100. Snake: yes
According to the instructions, I am supposed to bold the items eaten and cross out any items I would never consider eating. For clarity, however, I have indicated yes or no next to the items, and I am not crossing anything off, as I am willing to try anything once.
1. Venison: yes (as well as venison jerky and venison sausage)
2. Nettle tea: nettle yes; nettle tea no
3. Huevos rancheros: yes
4. Steak tartare: yes
5. Crocodile: yes
6. Black pudding: yes
7. Cheese fondue: yes
8. Carp: yes
9. Borscht: I believe I have
10. Baba ghanoush: I believe I have
11. Calamari: yes
12. Pho: yes
13. PB&J sandwich: yes
14. Aloo gobi: I believe I have
15. Hot dog from a street cart: yes
16. Epoisses: yes
17. Black truffle: yes
18. Fruit wine made from something other than grapes: yes (olallieberry and pineapple, but not together)
19. Steamed pork buns: yes
20. Pistachio ice cream: yes
21. Heirloom tomatoes: yes
22. Fresh wild berries: yes
23. Foie gras: yes (for as long as possible)
24. Rice and beans: yes
25. Brawn or head cheese: yes
26. Raw Scotch Bonnet pepper: no
27. Dulce de leche: yes
28. Oysters: yes
29. Baklava: yes
30. Bagna cauda: I believe I have
31. Wasabi peas: yes
32. Clam chowder in a sourdough bowl: yes
33. Salted lassi: I believe I have
34. Sauerkraut: yes
35. Root beer float: yes
36. Cognac with a fat cigar: cognac yes; fat cigar yes; but together not sure (prefer scotch with cigar)
37. Clotted cream tea: no
38. Vodka jelly/Jell-O: yes (but not past the age of twenty-one)
39. Gumbo: yes
40. Oxtail: yes
41. Curried goat: curry yes; goat yes; curried goat no
42. Whole insects: yes (but I did not know what they were at the time; I thought they were some type of roasted nuts)
43. Phaal: I believe I have
44. Goat’s milk: as an ingredient yes; straight no
45. Malt whisky from a bottle worth £60/$120 or more: yes
46. Fugu: no (sadly now illegal to import into United States)
47. Chicken tikka masala: yes
48. Eel: yes
49. Krispy Kreme original glazed doughnut: yes
50. Sea urchin: yes
51. Prickly pear: yes
52. Umeboshi: yes
53. Abalone: yes
54. Paneer: no
55. McDonald’s Big Mac Meal: yes
56. Spaetzle: yes
57. Dirty gin martini: yes (but prefer martini with twist)
58. Beer above 8% ABV (alcohol by volume): I believe I have
59. Poutine: yes
60. Carob chips: yes
61. S’mores: yes
62. Sweetbreads: yes
63. Kaolin: no
64. Currywurst: yes
65. Durian: yes
66. Frogs’ legs: yes
67. Beignets, churros, elephant ears or funnel cake: yes; yes; no; yes
68. Haggis: yes
69. Fried plantain: plantain yes; deep-fried no
70. Chitterlings, or andouillette: I am not sure (not opposed to any offal, particularly in sausage form, but no specific recollection of chitterlings)
71. Gazpacho: yes
72. Caviar and blini: yes (separately and together)
73. Louche absinthe: no
74. Gjetost, or brunost: no
75. Roadkill: ?? What constitutes roadkill? I suppose I have never scooped up roadkill and eaten it, so no
76. Baijiu: yes
77. Hostess Fruit Pie: yes
78. Snail: yes
79. Lapsang souchong: yes
80. Bellini: yes
81. Tom yum: yes
82. Eggs Benedict: yes
83. Pocky: yes
84. Tasting menu at a three-Michelin-star restaurant: yes
85. Kobe beef: yes
86. Hare: rabbit yes; hare no
87. Goulash: I believe I have
88. Flowers: yes
89. Horse: no
90. Criollo chocolate: no
91. Spam: yes
92. Soft shell crab: yes
93. Rose harissa: harissa yes; rose harissa no
94. Catfish: yes
95. Mole poblano: yes
96. Bagel and lox: yes
97. Lobster Thermidor: yes
98. Polenta: yes
99. Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee: yes
100. Snake: yes
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
The Oscars of Food?
The results of the James Beard Foundation Awards for 2008 were announced earlier this week. Some observations on what I found to be surprise winners:
Central Michel Richard got Best New Restaurant. While I have tremendous respect for the big man himself (who I think does food tricks better than Grant Achatz and Jose Andres when he is not phoning it in) and the burger and "Kit Kat" dessert are indeed quite clever and tasty, I cannot imagine that this is actually the best new restaurant that opened in 2007, regardless of the fact that it is markedly better than Citronelle (among my picks for the Emperor Has No Clothes Award, not an official JBF category).
Terra won Outstanding Service. I love the food at Terra, and it remains one of my favorite restaurants consistently for the past decade, but best service? Maybe best casual service, but this one was a head scratcher. Per Se definitely. Jean-Georges of course. Masa's in San Francisco. Charlie Trotter's in Chicago. Not that service at Terra falls short in any way, just not something that comes to mind when I think of Terra. The fried oysters with pork belly, on the other hand, absolutely.
Craig Stoll of Delfina won for Best Chef Pacific over David Kinch of Manresa. Delfina is well-conceived and well-articulated comfort food, but not in the same league as Manresa, which more appropriately belongs in the French Laundry/Jean-Georges/Charlie Trotter's category.
The biggest shocker was in the Rising Star Chef category. My favorite chef of all time (because of his complete crazy obsessiveness, innovation, diligence, and creativity), Johnny Monis, was edged out by Gavin Kaysen. Not to take anything away from the team at Cafe Boulud, but were you impressed with Kaysen's showing on Next Iron Chef? (It was not materially better at Cafe Boulud).
Central Michel Richard got Best New Restaurant. While I have tremendous respect for the big man himself (who I think does food tricks better than Grant Achatz and Jose Andres when he is not phoning it in) and the burger and "Kit Kat" dessert are indeed quite clever and tasty, I cannot imagine that this is actually the best new restaurant that opened in 2007, regardless of the fact that it is markedly better than Citronelle (among my picks for the Emperor Has No Clothes Award, not an official JBF category).
Terra won Outstanding Service. I love the food at Terra, and it remains one of my favorite restaurants consistently for the past decade, but best service? Maybe best casual service, but this one was a head scratcher. Per Se definitely. Jean-Georges of course. Masa's in San Francisco. Charlie Trotter's in Chicago. Not that service at Terra falls short in any way, just not something that comes to mind when I think of Terra. The fried oysters with pork belly, on the other hand, absolutely.
Craig Stoll of Delfina won for Best Chef Pacific over David Kinch of Manresa. Delfina is well-conceived and well-articulated comfort food, but not in the same league as Manresa, which more appropriately belongs in the French Laundry/Jean-Georges/Charlie Trotter's category.
The biggest shocker was in the Rising Star Chef category. My favorite chef of all time (because of his complete crazy obsessiveness, innovation, diligence, and creativity), Johnny Monis, was edged out by Gavin Kaysen. Not to take anything away from the team at Cafe Boulud, but were you impressed with Kaysen's showing on Next Iron Chef? (It was not materially better at Cafe Boulud).
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
F.O...
Father's Office
1018 Montana Avenue
Santa Monica, CA 90403
(310) 393-2337
3229 Helms Avenue
Culver City, CA 90034
(310) 736-2224
Chef Sang Yoon
Evenings only Monday through Friday
Open at Noon on weekends
(No reservations; no table service)
Last tried: June 2009
Previously tried: May 2008
Whenever I hear the claim "best burger" uttered, it is almost always a hyperbole that is bound to disappoint, to the point where the concept of the "best burger" has become almost as mythical as leprechaun gold at the end of a rainbow. With the Office Burger at Father's Office in Santa Monica, however, I have hit the jackpot.
Juicy ground beef-- and I mean juicy, with glistening meat juice droplets visible with each bite-- on a chewy roll, smothered with a bacon-onion compote, caramelized to the point where it looks like thick dark fudge, and topped with a surprisingly mild and delicate yet rich combination of melted gruyere and Maytag blue cheese, accented by vibrantly green fresh baby arugula. This burger is absolutely to die for and completely deserving of the title of "Best Burger." I first heard about this burger on Daniel Boulud's television series, After Hours, and no offense to the great chef's legendary foie gras stuffed burger at db Bistro Moderne, the Office Burger wins hands down.
One minor thing I found curious is that Chef Sang Yoon, creator of this mind-blowing burger, does not mandate how the burger should be cooked. The place is well known for its no substitutions policy. After tasting the Office Burger, I can see why he permits no permutations (so people with dairy issues are either flat out of luck or have to deal with their own digestive consequences later). I tend to like opinionated chefs who know what they are talking about, especially so dead on, so the FO policy did not bother me, but I did find it curious that the same dictatorial policy does not apply to how the burgers are cooked.
As to other dishes, I tried the grilled asparagus with crispy serrano ham and crumbled hard-boiled egg in a sherry reduction. The sauce was a shade too sweet for my taste, but it did balance out the saltiness of the fried bacony ham and creaminess of the egg with parmesan shavings. The asparagus had great flavor, brought out by the perfect grilling, but the thick variety would have worked better instead of the pencils, which became a bit lost under all of the other elements of the dish.
Do not miss the matchstick fries with garlicy aioli to complement the phenomenal burger (not dried and crunchy like most matchsticks but crisply thin with soft fluffy potato innards). No ketchup or salt anywhere, but trust me, you will not need or miss them. In addition, although I personally prefer wine with my burger (a dry rose works really well with the Office Burger), there are over 30 different artisanal beers available on tap, and the servers/bartenders double as beer sommeliers. At 4pm on Friday, there was a line down the block waiting for the doors to open. I see why people would drive over twenty miles across Los Angeles, fighting the traffic and the crowds, to get a taste of this burger.
1018 Montana Avenue
Santa Monica, CA 90403
(310) 393-2337
3229 Helms Avenue
Culver City, CA 90034
(310) 736-2224
Chef Sang Yoon
Evenings only Monday through Friday
Open at Noon on weekends
(No reservations; no table service)
Last tried: June 2009
Previously tried: May 2008
Whenever I hear the claim "best burger" uttered, it is almost always a hyperbole that is bound to disappoint, to the point where the concept of the "best burger" has become almost as mythical as leprechaun gold at the end of a rainbow. With the Office Burger at Father's Office in Santa Monica, however, I have hit the jackpot.
Juicy ground beef-- and I mean juicy, with glistening meat juice droplets visible with each bite-- on a chewy roll, smothered with a bacon-onion compote, caramelized to the point where it looks like thick dark fudge, and topped with a surprisingly mild and delicate yet rich combination of melted gruyere and Maytag blue cheese, accented by vibrantly green fresh baby arugula. This burger is absolutely to die for and completely deserving of the title of "Best Burger." I first heard about this burger on Daniel Boulud's television series, After Hours, and no offense to the great chef's legendary foie gras stuffed burger at db Bistro Moderne, the Office Burger wins hands down.
One minor thing I found curious is that Chef Sang Yoon, creator of this mind-blowing burger, does not mandate how the burger should be cooked. The place is well known for its no substitutions policy. After tasting the Office Burger, I can see why he permits no permutations (so people with dairy issues are either flat out of luck or have to deal with their own digestive consequences later). I tend to like opinionated chefs who know what they are talking about, especially so dead on, so the FO policy did not bother me, but I did find it curious that the same dictatorial policy does not apply to how the burgers are cooked.
As to other dishes, I tried the grilled asparagus with crispy serrano ham and crumbled hard-boiled egg in a sherry reduction. The sauce was a shade too sweet for my taste, but it did balance out the saltiness of the fried bacony ham and creaminess of the egg with parmesan shavings. The asparagus had great flavor, brought out by the perfect grilling, but the thick variety would have worked better instead of the pencils, which became a bit lost under all of the other elements of the dish.
Do not miss the matchstick fries with garlicy aioli to complement the phenomenal burger (not dried and crunchy like most matchsticks but crisply thin with soft fluffy potato innards). No ketchup or salt anywhere, but trust me, you will not need or miss them. In addition, although I personally prefer wine with my burger (a dry rose works really well with the Office Burger), there are over 30 different artisanal beers available on tap, and the servers/bartenders double as beer sommeliers. At 4pm on Friday, there was a line down the block waiting for the doors to open. I see why people would drive over twenty miles across Los Angeles, fighting the traffic and the crowds, to get a taste of this burger.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Wednesday, May 07, 2008
Just Desserts
I have more of a salt tooth than a sweet one. Since I generally prefer savory to sweet, I am probably more critical of desserts than the rest of the menu. But when the following chefs are offering their creations, I would be ecstatic to be presented with an all-dessert menu:
1. Brooks Headley (formerly with KOMI)
2. Boris Portnoy (formerly with Campton Place)
3. Carlos Salgado (formerly with Coi)
4. Tim Dahl (Blackbird)
5. Kendra Baker (formerly with Bar Tartine)
6. Deanie Fox (formerly with Manresa)
7. Karen Hatfield (formerly with Cortez)
1. Brooks Headley (formerly with KOMI)
2. Boris Portnoy (formerly with Campton Place)
3. Carlos Salgado (formerly with Coi)
4. Tim Dahl (Blackbird)
5. Kendra Baker (formerly with Bar Tartine)
6. Deanie Fox (formerly with Manresa)
7. Karen Hatfield (formerly with Cortez)
Monday, April 28, 2008
Monday Grousing
Items I wish restaurants would retire for a while:
- butternut squash soup
- seared scallops
- creme brulee (trio/duo/flavored/whatever)
- multiple desserts on tasting menus (5 savory courses and 3 desserts may technically be an 8-course menu, but come on!)
- mignardises (does anyone eat them?)
- gougeres
Recurring preparations that I still enjoy as long as executed well:
- tuna tartare
- molten chocolate cake (frankly, most chocolate desserts tend to be clunky and too sweet, as though the fact of chocolate excuses all)
- salumi
- cheese course
- sweetbreads
Items that I love but rarely see executed well:
- chilled soups
- burrata
- braised short ribs
- poached eggs
- lobster
- bearnaise sauce
- ramen (really sad that I have to go to New York for this)
- burger
- coffee
- croissant/brioche
- duck breast
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Places I've Eaten in Napa/Sonoma
Azteca Market
BarBersQ (Barber)
Bar Terra*
Bistro Don Giovanni
Bistro Jeanty
Bistro Ralph
Bottega
Bouchon
Bounty Hunter
Brix
Cafe La Haye
Cindy's Backstreet Kitchen*
Cyrus*
Della Santina's
Dry Creek Kitchen
French Laundry (Lee)
General's Daughter
Genova Delicatessen
Geyser Smokehouse
The Girl and the Fig
BarBersQ (Barber)
Bar Terra*
Bistro Don Giovanni
Bistro Jeanty
Bistro Ralph
Bottega
Bouchon
Bounty Hunter
Brix
Cafe La Haye
Cindy's Backstreet Kitchen*
Cyrus*
Della Santina's
Dry Creek Kitchen
French Laundry (Lee)
General's Daughter
Genova Delicatessen
Geyser Smokehouse
The Girl and the Fig
Saturday, April 26, 2008
Wednesday, April 09, 2008
Spanish Revelation
El Quinto Pino
401 West 24th Street
New York, NY 10011
(212)206-6900
Chef Veronica Santos
"Dinner" nightly
Tried: April 2008
It has been a long time since any food discovery has excited me this much-- well, to be accurate, since I have experienced a truly new food discovery. I would probably count among them my encounters with Komi, Kiss, and Manresa (3 years, 7 years, and 3 years ago respectively), but otherwise it has been a while since any taste has really knocked my socks off.
The uni panini at El Quinto Pino did it. The New York Magazine critics have rarely steered me wrong, and on this they were absolutely on point. The warm, thin, diminutive, baguette-like sandwich, hot off the panini press with the bright yellow-orange scallops of uni still intact and unmelted (with the texture slighly thickened similar to when sushi restaurants opt to torch the top, and also reminiscent of homemade, slightly curdled hollandaise sauce-- not that I have had any experience with that...), is of the perfect size and perfect taste profile. The mustard seed oil that Chef Veronica Santos drizzles inside the sandwich provides the same sinus kick of slightly too much fresh wasabi or a bit of the good horseradish you used to get at old-fashioned prime rib houses. The chewy buttery bread combines seamlessly with the creamy buttery uni, and the end result is nothing less than blow-off-the-top-of-your-head delicicious.
Not that the rest of the menu is anything less impressive. The white anchovies marinated in olive oil were beautifully meaty yet delicate (be sure to soak up the residual flavored oil with the magnificent bread from Tom Cat Bakery). The fideua with cuttlefish in a saffron aioli made me want to cry with its combination of salty, sweet, rich-savory, spicy flavors and multiple colors and textures (despite being just a wee bit on the salty side). The generous slices of pork head cheese with pickled cauliflower and carrots were rich, creamy, salty, and decadent, with the pickled vegetables adding the ideal piquant accent and a zing of freshness to the glorious meat terrine.
The space is tiny, tiny, tiny-- with a row of seats along the bar and a few more scattered around the wall. Go early if you want to grab one of the bar stools, otherwise it is standing room only, with one bartender and one server attending to the entire "dining room." The bartender's recommendations on wine were spot on to match the intriguing small plates. The chalkboard menu-- literally, chalkboards above the bar, nothing printed-- is a bit hard to read but put yourself in the knowledgeable bartender's hands, and she will not steer you wrong.
I love this place! I haven't been this excited since I tried Momofuku ramen for the first time.
401 West 24th Street
New York, NY 10011
(212)206-6900
Chef Veronica Santos
"Dinner" nightly
Tried: April 2008
It has been a long time since any food discovery has excited me this much-- well, to be accurate, since I have experienced a truly new food discovery. I would probably count among them my encounters with Komi, Kiss, and Manresa (3 years, 7 years, and 3 years ago respectively), but otherwise it has been a while since any taste has really knocked my socks off.
The uni panini at El Quinto Pino did it. The New York Magazine critics have rarely steered me wrong, and on this they were absolutely on point. The warm, thin, diminutive, baguette-like sandwich, hot off the panini press with the bright yellow-orange scallops of uni still intact and unmelted (with the texture slighly thickened similar to when sushi restaurants opt to torch the top, and also reminiscent of homemade, slightly curdled hollandaise sauce-- not that I have had any experience with that...), is of the perfect size and perfect taste profile. The mustard seed oil that Chef Veronica Santos drizzles inside the sandwich provides the same sinus kick of slightly too much fresh wasabi or a bit of the good horseradish you used to get at old-fashioned prime rib houses. The chewy buttery bread combines seamlessly with the creamy buttery uni, and the end result is nothing less than blow-off-the-top-of-your-head delicicious.
Not that the rest of the menu is anything less impressive. The white anchovies marinated in olive oil were beautifully meaty yet delicate (be sure to soak up the residual flavored oil with the magnificent bread from Tom Cat Bakery). The fideua with cuttlefish in a saffron aioli made me want to cry with its combination of salty, sweet, rich-savory, spicy flavors and multiple colors and textures (despite being just a wee bit on the salty side). The generous slices of pork head cheese with pickled cauliflower and carrots were rich, creamy, salty, and decadent, with the pickled vegetables adding the ideal piquant accent and a zing of freshness to the glorious meat terrine.
The space is tiny, tiny, tiny-- with a row of seats along the bar and a few more scattered around the wall. Go early if you want to grab one of the bar stools, otherwise it is standing room only, with one bartender and one server attending to the entire "dining room." The bartender's recommendations on wine were spot on to match the intriguing small plates. The chalkboard menu-- literally, chalkboards above the bar, nothing printed-- is a bit hard to read but put yourself in the knowledgeable bartender's hands, and she will not steer you wrong.
I love this place! I haven't been this excited since I tried Momofuku ramen for the first time.
Sunday, April 06, 2008
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)