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Tag: Oysters

“It seems to me that our three basic needs, for food and security and love, are so mixed and mingled and entwined that we cannot straightly think of one without the others. So it happens that when I write of hunger, I am really writing about love and the hunger for it, and warmth and the love of it and the hunger for it… and then the warmth and richness and fine reality of hunger satisfied… and it is all one.” ― M.F.K. Fisher, The Art of Eating

Grace Amid Discord and Despair: We Talk Ramey, Cline, ‘Sideways’, Riesling, Zinfandel, Syrah, and More

August 19, 2018 / / 6 Comments

Fires out west, Twitterreah in D.C., and collapsing infrastructure in Genoa: The woes continue unabated (it’s always been that way, of course), and as summer progresses toward the autumnal equinox, despair and dismay seem the manners of the day. What to do?

Well, once you’ve checked on your friends and acquaintances in wine country, those dealing with the deadly fires, once you’ve donated to relief efforts there, after you’ve made sure your friend in Genoa is OK, after you’ve read the latest piece from Maggie Haberman about the goings-on in the White House (has there ever been a leakier bunch at 1600 Pennsylvania?), it’s time to cook and drink and eat and give thanks for the solace that can be had in those activities.

A few weeks ago, I was at State of Grace in Houston, drinking Rosé and enjoying some oysters. Matt Crawford, the restaurant’s general manager and beverage director, stopped by and poured us a Mezcal, and we talked briefly. Matt’s a great guy, and he just happens to be the subject of my latest Wine Talk. Give it a read, and next time you decide on oysters, pair them with Mezcal.

Drink Mezcal with your oysters. (Brockhaus photo)

Briny heaven (Brockhaus photo)

Continuing with wine, we move to Germany (my favorite wine country), and a great cause. (Drink Riesling every day!) But first, let’s hear from Mark Twain on Deutschland:

My philological studies have satisfied me that a gifted person ought to learn English (barring spelling and pronouncing) in thirty hours, French in thirty days, and German in thirty years. It seems manifest, then, that the latter tongue ought to be trimmed down and repaired. If it is to remain as it is, it ought to be gently and reverently set aside among the dead languages, for only the dead have time to learn it.
– “That Awful German Language,” Appendix D of A Tramp Abroad

Whenever the literary German dives into a sentence, that is the last you are going to see of him till he emerges on the other side of his Atlantic with his verb in his mouth.
– A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court

…mastery of the art and spirit of the Germanic language enables a man to travel all day in one sentence without changing cars.
– Christian Science

A dream…I was trying to explain to St. Peter, and was doing it in the German tongue, because I didn’t want to be too explicit.
– Mark Twain’s Speeches, 1923

The Germans are exceedingly fond of Rhine wines; they are put up in tall, slender bottles, and are considered a pleasant beverage. One tells them from vinegar by the label.
– A Tramp Abroad

Twain’s sarcasm and humor set aside, if you read this today (Sunday, the 19th of August, 2018) before 4 o’clock in the afternoon or so, and if you are in Houston, Texas, hightail it to Camerata and drink some fine German wines and contribute to a good cause. (Click here for more details.)

All of this talk about German wines takes me back to a fine summer day a few years ago; my friend Holger and I took a journey that included a stop at Schloss Vollrads. We drank and ate well.

A fine setting for Riesling.

I enjoy a Riesling at Schloss Vollrads.

Drinking Rielsing with Holger on the Rhine near Bingen.

Finally, there’s Zinfandel and Syrah, and Cline and Ramey. Two bottles we opened recently, two vintages that I recommend highly and that will pair with everything from hamburgers to beef stew and grilled ribeye or lamb. David Ramey and Nancy and Fred Cline are the names behind these two bottles, and you’ll want to add both wines to your inventory.

Zinfandel from old vines is in this bottle.

In Spain, By the Sea, I Dined Well

November 3, 2014 / / 0 Comments
Paco Perez in his Restaurant Miramar. (Photo courtesy four-magazine.com)

Paco Perez in his Restaurant Miramar. (Photo courtesy four-magazine.com)

I was in Girona for a few days and decided to drive myself to a little town not far away, to a place called Llançà, in and around which about 5,000 or so people live. My final destination was Restaurant Miramar, where Paco Perez and his team create beautiful (and delicious) dishes from local, stellar ingredients, including tuna, anchovies, sea cucumber, and pigeon.

I arrived in Llançà in the late afternoon, after a drive along the coast, a winding and invigorating journey. I parked near the sea, along a promenade, fishing boats, and families and couples wandering in the sunlight. As I am wont to do, I walked the streets of this town that was new to me, stopping in a bar/pub that advertised Paulaner on a sign hanging above its door. The proprietor spoke some German, and we talked about Fussball and food and politics.

Around 7:30 I made my way to the restaurant, which holds two Michelin stars, and ordered a Campari and Soda at my table overlooking the promenade and the water. I chose the tasting menu, which was comprised of 20 or so plates, ready for a long and enjoyable repast. I was not disappointed. A foie doughnut, a beautiful prawn, rouget, pigeon, much more, all done with sophistication and artistry. As the menu stated, “Simplicity is the greatest sophistication.”

Here, for your gustatory pleasure, my meal.

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Alison and Constance enter a new phase. (Photo courtesy Oliver Quillia)

The Brockhaus Does a Wedding on Nantucket

October 15, 2014 / / 4 Comments

The menu was set, the venue ready, the brides were prepared. A wedding would soon take place on Nantucket, and The Brockhaus was in charge of the food. The beautiful couple had given me their directives for the weekend – five hors d’oeuvres immediately following the ceremony on Saturday afternoon, four side dishes to accompany the barbecue from Salt Lick that would be shipped in and served for dinner on Saturday evening, and the festivities would close with brunch on Sunday. The house, which overlooked the Atlantic Ocean, would be full of smiles and music and warmth and activity for the next three days.

Alison and Constance enter a new phase. (Photo courtesy Oliver Quillia)

Alison and Constance enter a new phase. (Photo courtesy Oliver Quillia)

I consulted with Constance and Alison about the food, and came up with an hors d’oeuvre menu that was, by turns, classic, unfussy, and, elegant. Blinis with crème fraîche and caviar; chicken liver mousse on baguette slices; butternut squash shooters; pimento cheese sandwiches; and fried curried oysters on the half shell with a cucumber-sesame oil sauce and salmon roe.

Wolfgang Puck had it on the menu at Spago, and we did it on Nantucket.

Wolfgang Puck had it on the menu at Spago, and we did it on Nantucket.

Several weeks before the wedding took place, as the number of attendees increased, I decided to hire someone to help with the prepping and cooking, and lucked out with Lucas Maylott, who lives on the island and works as a private chef. He and I worked seamlessly in the kitchen, without a hitch. Angela did her part as well, assisting with the hors d’oeuvres and keeping things running smoothly.

The brides were married, the hors d’oeuvres were passed among the guests by several servers, and we completed the side dishes for the barbecue: cole slaw, German potato salad, a mixed green salad, and crab macaroni and cheese, the latter of which – along with the pimento cheese sandwiches and the oysters – was the star of the weekend, culinarily speaking.

The barbecue from Salt Lick had traveled well, and Lucas made sure it was plated properly on the buffet table; we had brisket, and smoked turkey breast, and beef ribs. By 8 p.m. everything was gone, save the Champagne and wine and laughter.

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What I’m Drinking Now (And It Takes Me Back to Paris)

August 30, 2014 / / 0 Comments
Made in California, but it took me to France. (Brockhaus Photo)

Made in California, but it took me to France. (Brockhaus Photo)

Every now and then I come across a wine that transports me, that at first taste takes me to a place I want to be. It happened a few evenings ago, and I have Vanessa Treviño-Boyd to thank for the brief excursion of the mind and spirit. I was sitting at the bar at 60 Degrees Mastercrafted, where Treviño-Boyd is the beverage director and sommelier, and she brought me a bottle of Lieu Dit, a 2013 Melon. The producer describes it this way:

From old vines planted in the early 70’s, this block grows on sandy soils in an exceptionally breezy part of Santa Maria Valley out at Bien Nacido vineyard. The fruit is pressed, fermented, and aged all in tank to ensure the minerality, freshness, and tension we look for when enjoying this variety.

It was crisp, balanced, and drinking it took me back to a little restaurant in the Fifth Arrondissement, at the top of Rue de la Montagne-Sainte-Geneviève, the street on which I lived. Several mornings each week a man would bring oysters he harvested to the restaurant, and I would go there and eat them as I stood on the sidewalk. If he was extremely busy, which he often was, I would shuck the oysters from Brittany at a small table outside the door of the restaurant, gathering a dozen or so on a plate before I ventured to begin my breakfast. With the briny wonders I drank, always, a wine that was from the Loire. I thought often of Hemingway, who had many times walked on that same sidewalk. Those mornings were beautiful. It was late fall, winter was coming on, and all was good with the world, at least on that small stretch of land in Paris.

I will be buying the Lieu Dit melon, a Brockhaus-approved wine, by the case, if I can find that much.

Beauties from the Loire: The Wines of Saget la Perrière

July 22, 2014 / / 0 Comments
A man and his wines: Arnaud Saget has taken his place in1 the ninth generation of a family-run winery.

A man and his wines: Arnaud Saget has taken his place in the ninth generation of a family-run wine-making concern. (photos/James Brock)

I have spent some time in the Loire Valley, and love drinking wines from the large region. It is a place full of lively and interesting winemakers, not to mention châteaux, and if you’ve never had the pleasure of driving from Paris and visiting Chambord or Château d’Azay-le-Rideau and drinking wines from Olivier Cousin in a café around the corner from where they were bottled, you should consider booking a flight to France. It is a magical region, the Loire. (And if it was good enough for Leonardo da Vinci, it is certainly good enough for the rest of us.)

The Loire produces some of my favorite daily drinking wines, and yesterday I had the opportunity to meet Arnaud Saget, whose family owns Saget la Perrière and produces wine with 890 acres and six estates. A tasting lunch at The Oceanaire Seafood Room was the setting, and it’s been a long time since I enjoyed, at one seating, so many exemplary, easy-drinking wines that I would serve, without reservation, on a daily basis.

Saget is the director général of his family’s company and is charge of marketing, so he travels a lot; this weekend he will be in New York, and next week Germany. His enthusiasm for winemaking is infectious, and though he understands that wine (and the selling of it) is a business, it is evident that he also understands and respects that his calling is part of a long and hallowed tradition that brings joy to the lives of millions of people around the world.

We began with the Muscadet de Sèvre & Maine sur Lie Les Cilssages d’Or, and it was the ideal way to start a meal focused on seafood. I liked that this wine was not overly sweet, and the hints of peach and pear were refreshing.

Bottles of 2012 selections from Saget la Perrière command one's attention.

Bottles of 2012 selections from Saget la Perrière command one’s attention.

We had more wines than food courses, but that was no problem. All of the selections were from 2012, and, as I wrote, are drinking well right now. My favorite was the Domaine de la Perrière Sancerre. Crisp, it made me think of a Riesling, and when Arnaud Saget told me that the grapes are grown in flinty soil I understood why I thought “Riesling”. This Sancerre would be perfect for an afternoon under a beach umbrella, or with oysters. Or both at the same time.

We tasted two reds at lunch, a Chinon and a Pinot Noir. The latter was unmistakably a pinot. Ruby color, faint, lovely vanilla taste, easy on the tongue. The Chinon, however, would be my preferred of the two reds, with its supple tannins and wonderful spiciness.

Yes, there was food. We were served an Alaska Red King Crab Salad as a first course, followed by Pan-Broiled Alaska Weathervane Scallops – overcooked to my palate – Seared Wild Alaska Halbut, and, as a closer before the dessert, Grilled Bering Sea Wild Coho Salmon, which we paired with the Pinot Noir, and which was the best dish of the day. Its tarragon butter sauce was perfect, creamy, slightly acidic.

Wild Halibut from Alaska was firm, slightly briny, but overwhelmed by the potatoes served with it.

Wild Halibut from Alaska was firm, slightly briny, but overwhelmed by the potatoes served with it.

Wild Coho Salmon, with a great tarragon butter sauce

Wild Coho Salmon, with a great tarragon butter sauce, was the best dish of the day.

If you are looking for wines to drink every day, bottles with great price points – the most expensive wine we tasted (the Le Domaine Saget Pouilly-Fumé) carries a suggested retail price of $29 – buying these Saget selections by the case would not disappoint.

WINES TASTED (suggested retail price US$):

Muscadet de Sèvre & Maine sur Lie Les Cilssages d’Or ($14)
Marie de Beauregard AOC Vouvray ($18)
Guy Saget La Petite Perrière Sauvignon Blanc ($12)
Guy Saget La Petite Perrière Sancerre ($22) *A Brockhaus Selection
Le Domaine Saget Pouilly-Fumé ($29)
Guy Saget La Petite Perrière Pinot Noir ($13.50)
Marie de Beauregard Chinon ($17.99) *A Brockhaus Selection

So Long, Can Fabes

January 3, 2014 / / 3 Comments

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A new year brings with it an ending, or even endings. We look forward to the days and nights that stretch before us, but we also, if we are so predisposed, think about what we are leaving behind, be they people, places or things.

During this first week of 2014 I am doing my fair share of wondering about what lies ahead, making plans, writing down goals and intentions.

And I’m thinking of people and places that are no more, especially these three: Marcella Hazan, Charlie Trotter, and El Racó de Can Fabes. Each made an impression on my life, and made me a better cook.

I never met Ms. Hazan, but she did comment on several Facebook posts of mine, asking questions and giving her opinions in a straightforward and probing manner. I did meet Trotter, when he cooked at a dinner in Abu Dhabi that I attended. Two monumental individuals, Hazan and Trotter. They influenced more people than they would ever know, and made my life richer. Our world is poorer without them.

El Racó de Can Fabes, a fabled restaurant, closed its doors forever in 2013. One day in September 2012 I was in a rental car, having left Barcelona headed to France. It was nearing lunchtime and I spotted a road sign indicating an exit for Sant Celoni. Sant Celoni … The name meant something to me, but I could not place it. I slowed the car, my brain all the while attempting to make the connection. It did about two minutes later: Sant Celoni is the village that is home (was home) to Can Fabes. I exited the highway, then pulled over and keyed the words into my GPS. About 15 minutes later I was parked near the restaurant; it was around 12:30, and I walked to the entrance, hoping that they would seat me without a reservation. They did, and that afternoon has been with me constantly since. (See photo slideshow above.)

You might be aware that the building that housed Can Fabes belonged to the Santamaria family for more than 200 years. You might also know that it had operated as a restaurant for 32 years and earned its first Michelin star  in 1988, seven years after Santi Santimaria opened it as a casual bistro. It was awarded a third Michelin star in 1994. Then, as it sometimes will, life dealt a cruel hand. Santimaria died of a heart attack while at his restaurant in Singapore; he was 53.

Regina Santimaria, his daughter, took over, and made a valiant effort to keep Can Fabes open. Losing a man as original and vibrant as Santimaria, however, is, in my opinion, a fatal blow. The restaurant lost one of its Michelin stars, the global economy fell apart, and things were grim in Sant Celoni.

Today I leafed through an online catalogue for an auction of Can Fabe possessions that took place in December 2013. It included plates and glasses and cutlery and pots and pans. But what one could not bid on, the item that created the magic that was Can Fabes, was Santi Santimaria’s soul, and it was nowhere in that catalogue. It was, however, in the meal I had in Sant Celoni that day, and it will be in me forever.

Triniti fails, on two counts

August 12, 2013 / / 0 Comments

I’ve been, for the past few weeks, throwing myself into Houston, into restaurants and museums and food markets, looking for the good stuff, the places to which I’ll return for the things I need for sustenance and inspiration, my fixes.

Last night, after a screening of Blue Jasmine (my Woody fix), Angela and I drove to Triniti, about which I had read a few good things, for a food fix. The restaurant looks perfect, all light wood and subdued illumination in the right places. A low exposed-concrete wall separates the open kitchen from the main dining area – a design element I found particularly satisfying.

But the food. Disappointing. Except for Angela’s pea soup, served wonderfully chilled, the rest of the plates were lacking in taste and technique. For $31, I expect beans properly cooked, faro that is not dry, and pork that is seasoned. (My dish on the menu: pork chop – parsnip puree, collection of summer beans, heart, faro, plum sauce.) A cook must show confidence in his use of salt. Whoever put his (or her) mind and hand to my pork seems to have none. The beans in the bean and faro mixture were hard, and if anyone in that gorgeous kitchen tasted those beans and still allowed them to enter the dining room on a plate, he or she should be assigned a bean-cooking class, for at least a week.

To Angela’s plate of snapper (on the menu as “Snapper – artichoke, olive, tomato fondue, white bean puree, fried oyster). It was, in her words, a poorly deconstructed version of the description, with each of the ingredients in a clump on the plate. The tomato fondue was overly tart and bitter, and the sole olive on the plate small and lonely and dry. It was as if the cook cared more about the “art” of the plate than she did about the taste of the ingredients. The fish was moist, but it lacked the bite of freshness, and the $29 plate was disappointing overall, especially coming after the excellent soup. The fried oyster was crisp, the interior bland, as if all the salt and ocean had been drained from the bivalve.

Art over taste. Plate design over cooking technique. I have been noticing this more and more, artfully designed plates that ultimately disappoint when one disturbs the masterpiece by eating it. Joyce had to master the language by writing Dubliners before he could move on to Ulysses and Finnegans Wake. I appreciate beautiful plates, food artfully arranged with passion and playfulness, but if the food art disappoints on the palate, the art is a contrivance, worth nothing.

It was a Sunday evening, so perhaps that had something to do with the food, and the service. Yes, in addition to the lacking food, the service was a bit slipshod. When my pork dish was delivered I had to wait five minutes for a knife and fork. When our dessert was placed on the table, the waiter overlooked the fact that we had no cutlery. Minor issues, yes, but restaurants of this caliber, or restaurants that aspire to be in this caliber and charge $48 for a lamb dish, must also aspire to perfect service, service that is so amazing as to be invisible. Nothing should disturb the guest’s relationship with the food. This service did.

I am going to visit Triniti again, on a Wednesday or Friday. I am certain it does better than it did on this evening of our first visit.

The perfect way to arrive in New Orleans

July 17, 2013 / / 1 Comment

I  drove up from lower Florida yesterday – that state is too long – headed to New Orleans, where I am spending two days on my way to Houston, so I asked my friend John T. Edge where he would eat now if he could have three meals in the Crescent City. Pêche, one of his picks, was my destination last night, so I made sure I drove rapidly enough to make it in time for dinner. It’s on Magazine Street, and as I approached the building I spied a parking spot directly in front of the restaurant’s main entrance. I took it, got out of the car, and marveled at my luck. As I shook off the road two young guys who were smoking on the sidewalk asked me if I was “from around here”. I told them no, that I had just arrived from Florida … they were bartenders, in town for Tales of the Cocktail, a five-day convention/festival. So, not only do I find a parking spot right outside the restaurant, but I arrive in New Orleans on the opening day of an event dedicated to mixology … That is the perfect way to arrive.

I took a seat at the raw bar and scanned the the crowd; the place was packed, loud, the the diners ran the gamut from old to young, hipster to grandparents. John’s recommendation, as I knew it would be, was sublime. I started with a small bowl of smoked tuna dip, which contained a hint of heat – perhaps jalapeño – and was a creamy delight on the Saltines that accompanied it.

The oysters looked good as they were shucked in front of me, so I chose six: Blue Points from Connecticut, Louisiana Area 3, and St. James (Virginia.) Cold, crisp, revivifying. Eating them drove the long drive right out of me.

Blue Points, Louisiana Area 3, a St. James (Virginia)

Blue Points (Connecticut), Louisiana Area 3, and St. James (Virginia)

Next came raw tuna with fennel, tomato water and corn (and a little basil thrown in). Again, amazing, fresh flavors. Tuna was a bit warm for my taste, but that was probably because I took my time with the dip and oysters before I proceeded to that plate.

Tuna, fennel, tomato water and corn

Tuna, fennel, tomato water and corn

I then took a pause and perused the menu, considering the Louisiana Shrimp Roll before deciding on the Grouper Collars. I am very fond of Hake Cheeks, which I ate often in San Sebastián, so I thought I would give the grouper a try. It was a good choice. Served with tomato and cucumber and parsley, fried to the perfect level of crispiness, full of tender, rich meat.

Grouper collars, pepper jelly, and cucumbers

Grouper collars, pepper jelly, and cucumbers

Bartenders surrounded me, I was finishing a glass of Albariño, and New Orleans was just outside. It was a perfect evening. Donald Link, Stephen Stryjewski, and Ryan Prewitt have a new winner on their hands.

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