Mise en Place

Month: August 2014 (Page 1 of 2)

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.

Brockhaus Arrives: Semifreddo and Salmon Tartare … Reserve Your Place at The First Supper

August 26, 2014 / / 2 Comments

 

Brockhaus is here. Join us on September 27 for The First Supper, and stay tuned for more.

Brockhaus is here. Join us on September 27 for The First Supper, and stay tuned for more.

Two years ago I left Dubai to work in three of Europe’s finest restaurants. I staged at Arzak, Amador, and Spring, and though I was able to stay in those great kitchens for a short period of time only, the cooks and chefs I worked with and for taught me a lot. I will forever be grateful for the opportunities they gave me.

Those experiences helped me fine-tune the skills I developed in my own kitchens and through years of self-guided learning and dinner parties. Over the years, friends and guests have encouraged me to cook more formally and introduce my food to more people. That time has come.

I am in Houston now, and am proud to introduce The First Supper, a six-course meal that will take place in September. The evening marks the launch of Brockhaus, a culinary think tank focusing on dining events, discussions, cocktail gatherings, symposia and educational programs. Stay tuned for details.

Fried sage deserves a place at your table.

Fried sage deserves a place at your table.

Here is the menu for The First Supper:

1st salmon tartare / roe / crème fraîche

2nd sea and earth: scallop / lardo / bean purée 

3rd prawn / sorrel

4th bisque of wild mushroom / pomegranate 

5th duck breast / peaches / port

6th bacon semifreddo / pigñola brittle

 (complimentary wines served with each course)

If you wish to attend, please RSVP by September 10 to [email protected]

For details – and if you have questions – call 718-360-3988.  Suggested donation of $100 per person.

I have assembled a very fine team for Brockhaus: Isaac Johnson, a sommelier and restaurateur who has worked in Austin and Houston; Vanessa Treviño-Boyd, a sommelier with experience in New York and Houston, among other places; Angela Shah, a journalist and writer who has dined with me across the globe; and Christopher Stanton, a great cook who has worked with me in kitchens in Abu Dhabi, Dubai, and Houston. We look forward to meeting you, nourishing you, and introducing you to some great and unique wines and some very interesting people.

Bon appétit!

In Which I Begin Cooking With Nathan Myhrvold

August 21, 2014 / / 0 Comments
Seared with a torch, cooked at 170F ... (Brockhaus photo)

Seared with a torch, cooked at 170F. (Brockhaus Photo)

In 2012 I won a copy of a something I had placed on my wish list the minute it was published: “Modernist Cuisine: The Art and Science of Cooking”. It is a five-volume wonder that’s found in the collections of restaurants around the world; I first got my hands on it in Germany, when I was working at Amador. My copy was back in the U.S., at my parents’ house, where it had been shipped.

One of the first things I did when I returned to the U.S., in 2013, was open the box containing the books and dip into the volumes. (The volumes are stored in an acrylic case, and if there is someone you really love who loves to cook you should get this for them. It costs about $500.) I did not, however, have enough time to start cooking from it, so I put the books back into their case and the entire thing back into the box and vowed to, as soon as possible, begin using it in my kitchen.

Much to read, much to cook, much to eat. (Photo courtesy Modernist Cuisine)

Much to read, much to cook, much to eat. (Photo courtesy Modernist Cuisine)

That time has come. Yesterday I put a rib eye in the freezer, initial prep for Low-Temp Oven Steak. Today I took the steak from the freezer and seared it with a torch, making sure to pay attention to the fat on the sides of the meat. My gas oven’s lowest temperature setting is 170F – the method Nathan Myhrvold and his team perfected uses 160F – but that’s not an issue. Use 160F if you can; if not, just use the lowest setting on your range. I inserted the probe of my digital thermometer into the thickest part of the rib eye and set the unit to notify me when the internal temperature of the steak reached 134F.

Perfect temperature (overlook the imperfect plate and the large flake of Maldon I overlooked). (Brockhaus photo)

Perfect temperature (overlook the imperfect plate and the large flake of Maldon I overlooked). (Brockhaus Photo)

The steak was ready in less time that I anticipated, so I didn’t have time to make the spinach dish I had planned, but who cares? I removed the rib eye from the oven and put it on a cutting board, sliced it immediately, drizzled melted butter over it, then sprinkled some salt on top. It tasted very good – the searing with the torch created that flavor we all love on a steak, and the slow and low cooking resulted in extreme tenderness.

I am making a list of different cuts of beef to prepare using this method, and this is the “Modernist Cuisine” recipe that is up next at Brockhaus: 72-Hour Braised Short Ribs.

My Love For Riesling (and Olivia Newton-John) Knows No Bounds

August 20, 2014 / / 0 Comments
Magic in a bottle.

Magic in a bottle.

Anyone who knows me well knows I am all about Riesling. I love the grape, I love the wines. I study them, I collect them, I drink them, I dream about them. I “grew up” in the Rheinland-Pfalz, a beautiful area out of which comes some great wines, and I still recall the first time I tasted a Riesling: It was 1980, and it was a Bassermann-Jordan, and it was delicious. My life changed then and there. I saw that magic could be bottled and opened later for one’s enjoyment. (Angela and I visited Weingut Geheimer Rat Dr. von Bassermann-Jordan in 2012, along with a number of other wineries in the area. And we’ll be back.)

God's country, and home to some outstanding Rieslings. (Photo courtesy Germany.travel.com)

God’s country, and home to some outstanding Rieslings. (Photo courtesy Germany.travel.com)

The next day I went to the bookstore near my American high school and bought a copy of Frank J. Prial’s “Wine Talk” and began reading it immediately. I read anything about wine I could get my hands on, which was mostly in the International Herald Tribune (I was an editor on the staff of my school’s newspaper, and Ms. Thompson subscribed to the IHT for her journalism students).

My first wine book.

My first wine book.

Not long after that first taste my parents returned to the U.S. for a brief visit and I was left alone for a week or so. I don’t remember exactly where I bought my first collection of wines, but I clearly recall coming up with the plan to open a bottle each evening – I was at the time reading F. Scott Fitzgerald’s books in the order they were published, and the Rieslings surely added quality to that experience.

A friend who was around my age who lived upstairs from my family also liked wine, so he and I decided to start traveling to a village or town each week to enjoy a lunch or dinner and some wines. We went to Trier, and Mannheim, and many places in between. We ate bockwurst and schnitzel and escargot and saumagen. We drank mostly Rieslings, with some great beers thrown in for good measure. One meal I will always remember was one of trout caught from the waters below our table. It was at Seehaus Forelle, and it was more than 30 years ago, but it will be in my mind forever. The fish and the potatoes and the cucumber salad. And the wine. Riesling, of course.

Hopelessly devoted to you.

Hopelessly devoted to you.

Venus in fur.

Venus in fur.

That is how my passion for Riesling was born. But where, you ask, does Olivia Newton-John come in? Well, like any red-blooded male at that time I had a monumental crush on the Grease star. I loved the film, liked her songs, (though I was soon to discover the joys of Elvis Costello and U2 and the Police and BAP and leave her type of music behind), and admit to fantasizing about her from time to time. Or more often.

Yesterday I saw a video made by the Camerata crew, which transported me back to those days in Germany and made me think of Olivia and my first taste of Riesling. Watch this short, one of the best things I have ever seen made about my beloved grape, and perhaps you will understand what I am talking about. And whatever you do, drink more Riesling. It’s better than greased lightning.

 

Quail, Pork Belly, and Duck: A Few Excellent Plates This Week

August 16, 2014 / / 0 Comments

I had not been back to Vallone’s since February, and since Angela and I were at a birthday party nearby this past week I thought it was a great time for a return visit. Plus, Angela had never been there, and I always enjoy talking with Annie Balest, the manager at the restaurant.

I am glad we decided to stop by, because on that evening I had a dish that stands out in a fairly good month of food in Houston. It was Chicken Fried Quail, and here it is:

A fine, crispy crust, encasing moist and what seems to be slightly brined meat. (Photo courtesy Vallone's)

A fine, crispy crust, encasing moist and what seems to be slightly brined meat. Underneath are soft-scrambled cheddar eggs. (Photo courtesy Vallone’s)

The quail is from Broken Arrow Ranch, and it was fresh, and hot, and the skin was crisp. I loved biting into the pieces, which had been broken down with skill, and I loved the drizzle of honey on the skin (which on the menu is labeled “local”, so perhaps it came from the Heights HoneyBee Project). The batter had some spice to it that the honey complemented it in a way that made me want to order another plate.

Last night I accepted an invitation to check out Dosi, a Korean place that opened in late July. It is near my apartment, and if you have not tried the food there you should. The building is set back from Shepherd Drive, and there is valet parking out front. Inside, the walls are devoid of any ornamentation, the kitchen is visible at the far end of the space, and along the back wall tall, narrow windows afford a view of green bamboo stalks growing outside. Zen, indeed. There is a long, really long, communal table running the length of the floor in front of those windows, and as the evening progressed it became occupied by several large groups of people.

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This is a good way to sample some soju. (Photo courtesy Dosi)

A wall of infusing soju.

A wall of infusing soju. (Photo courtesy Dosi)

To the food (and drink): One of the best meals I’ve had in the past month. I started with a soju (infused) flight – pomegranate, orange, apple and strawberry vanilla. Dosi infuses its soju in-house, and they were all good, though I was partial to the orange.

The tables were quickly filling, and the crowd was diverse. Here a 20-something couple, there a family of five, there six women who resembled very fetching Korean television anchors. It’s a buzzy dining room, a bit loud, but not obtrusively so. The space, and the food, took me back to Hong Kong.

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Anchovy and pancake and scallion, and cress, done right.

I ordered first a scallion pancake, with white anchovy, watercress, and cured lemon and soy. The cake was about the size of a dinner plate, and came cut in six pieces, so that one could roll the individual slices around the anchovy and watercress mélange. The scallion flavor shone through, and the anchovies added an earthy kick. The freshness of the dish excited me. Too often I am served vegetables that seem to have been sitting for days at room temperature and taste drab and dull.

Pork belly done in the ssam style. (Photo courtesy Dosi)

Pork belly done in the ssam style. (Photo courtesy Dosi)

What came next was the best plate of food I have had in a long, long time. Its simplicity was its beauty, and the technique shown in the pork belly was admirable. Samgyeopsal is its title on the menu, under the Ssam section. Grilled belly with moo radish, perilla leaf, and caramelized soybean paste. My chopsticks jumped into my hand and made for the pork, and my mouth was happy for the next 15 minutes. Perfect grilling, beautiful plating, and the best pork belly this man has tasted in a year. The radishes were, as with the watercress, fresh, crisp, with a bite that elevated the belly. I sat there, mainly silent, and wrapped the remaining pork and radishes in the leaves, then dipped the parcels in the soybean paste. Get this dish.

Duck breast ssam, with an excellent beet kimchee. (Photo courtesy Dosi)

Duck breast ssam, with an excellent beet kimchee. (Photo courtesy Dosi)

Duck breast ssam followed the pork belly. Spiced and smoked duck, blackberry doenjang, and beet kimchee. Unfortunately, the duck was the least accomplished component on the plate. It was, to my taste, overcooked. I am not sure if it was intentional, but the breast was slightly tough. However, the kimchee was a treat. Perfect acid, shiny, slight crunch. It made the plate, and I would have been happy eating an entire bowl of it.

An artwork of dessert. (Photo courtesy Dosi)

An artwork of dessert. (Photo courtesy Dosi)

You see the dessert above? On the menu it is described as “steam cake / layered with red bean, sesame & green tea with lychee sherbet”. I describe it as delectable, especially the left side of that cake, with the red bean and green tea. The sherbet was smooth and a bit tart and it was sitting on sesame and on top of it were four or five dried lavender petals.

The menu also includes lamb collar, which I love, bo ssam (more love), and clams with a kimchee broth and sausage, corn and purple hull peas, rice and toasted egg yolk. I will return to Dosi and try all of the above. You will, if you are wise, join me.

To Julia Child: I Toast a Grande Dame on Her 102nd Birthday

August 15, 2014 / / 1 Comment
A giant in the kitchen, in more ways than one.

A giant in the kitchen, in more ways than one. (Photo courtesy estate of Julia Child)

I am celebrating her birthday in her absence. She would have turned 102 today, and she would have done it in style, sitting at a table surrounded by friends and loved ones. Paul would have been there, of course, the love of her life. Their courtship and long relationship should be the envy of us all. James Beard would be at her side, as well.

I won’t speculate about the menu, but I would not be unhappy for Julia Child if a waiter brought her sole meunière at some point during the meal. I feel a lot of passion for that dish, because it is what awakened Child’s senses and opened her mind to the wonders of good food, and the preparation of it. It was November, 1948, and she and Paul had just arrived in France. They were on their way to Paris, but needed to eat during the drive. It was Julia’s (allow me to refer to her as “Julia”) first meal in France, and she writes of it in “My Life in France” in this manner:

Rouen is famous for its duck dishes, but after consulting the waiter Paul had decided to order the sole meunière. It arrived whole: a large, flat Dover sole that was perfectly browned in a sputtering butter sauce with a sprinkling of chopped parsley on top. The waiter carefully placed the platter in front of us, stepped back, and said: “Bon appétit!”

I closed my eyes and inhaled the rising perfume. Then I lifted a forkful to my mouth, took a bite, and chewed slowly. The flesh of the sole was delicate, with a light but distinct taste of the ocean that blended marvelously with the browned butter. I chewed slowly and swallowed. It was a morsel of perfection. … At La Couronne I experienced fish, and a dining experience, of a higher order than any I’d ever had before.

As a child, I watched Julia on television. I am sure that back then I did not know what to think of her. My mother was born in Savannah, as was I, and I was very familiar with crab and shrimp and clams and pheasant and fried chicken and Cornish hen and even some less familiar sorts of seafood, but this tall woman with the funny voice … well, she had a way with those things that was different. She made me want to learn as much about them as I could. Little did I know that she would become a profound part of my life. I’m grateful she did, and I am certain many of you feel the same.

Julia Child became, and is, an international star.

Julia Child became, and is, an international star.

Every chance I get to “mingle” with Julia I take. In Napa, I visited Copia – the cultural and educational center dedicated to the discovery, understanding, and celebration of wine, food, and the arts in American culture – to see some of the pots and pans and other tools that she used in her Cambridge, Mass., kitchen. Copia, which she helped found, is now closed, but those pots and pans are in the Smithsonian, so when I was in D.C. in 2013 I visited them there.

A kitchen for the ages.

A kitchen for the ages. (Photo courtesy estate of Julia Child)

I’ve spoken with people who met her, and with a few people who cooked with her. In Houston, I ran across a letter she wrote to Robert Del Grande, which now hangs in his restaurant, RDG+Bar Annie. I talk about her with people all of the time, and when I met Mike Lata in 2007 at Blackberry Farm we talked about how she is the reason he cooks. I have many of her books, and never tire of watching her shows: her solo ventures, segments with other chefs, and the beautiful series she made with her great friend, Jacques Pépin. I never met her, but it is not because I did not try. Once, when I was in Cambridge, I went to her house and knocked on the door. No one answered … I assume she was away. I don’t know what I would have done if she had answered.

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Most profoundly, I cook with her. Not a day goes by that I don’t see her, in my mind’s eye, standing at a stove or counter, chopping an onion or pounding a piece of veal or hoisting a pot. She, in ways that I have yet to fully realize, taught me how to cook, taught me how to see the wisdom and grace that food possesses. And that is much more of a gift than that little boy watching her on television all those years ago could have ever expected.

Thank you, Julia, and Happy Birthday. I love and miss you.

It Was a Fine Day for Dosas

August 14, 2014 / / 0 Comments

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It was a Sunday, a hot and humid Sunday in Houston, and Angela and I had two meals planned that day. One was brunch with friends, and one was a Dosa Dinner, made by Angela’s mother, Pratima Shah, who is one of the best cooks I have met, especially when it comes to Indian vegetarian cuisine. I’ve had many meals at her home, and they have all been delicious and fresh. Dosa Dinner was no different.

She began the process the day before by soaking lentils and rice in water and letting both sit until they became swollen. Then the rice and lentils were ground and mixed, put in a loosely covered container, and allowed to ferment in a warm place for at least eight hours. (Ideal dosa batter fermentation temperature is around 90 degrees Fahrenheit.)

Ms. Shah had assistance from her sister-in-law, Asha, and the rest of us enjoyed the show.

 

 

Photo(s) of the Day: Cooking With Absent Friends

August 9, 2014 / / 0 Comments
From France, with love.

From France, with love.

When I cook, I am often doing so with friends in mind.

When I cook, I cook with friends, even if they are thousands of miles away.

One of the joys of my life is cooking in the kitchens of friends, be it in New Delhi, North Carolina, or Marly le Roi. One day in late autumn Angela and I were staying in the home of my friends Xavier and Charlotte, in a village near Versailles. They were in Spain and we had the place – a sprawling beauty of a house with a wonderful garden – to ourselves. We had visited the market in Versailles that day and picked up some lamb and vegetables and cheeses, and chose to enjoy the peace of the Cassignol home with bottles of wine and a long and luxurious cooking session.

I met Xavier and Charlotte many years ago when they lived next door to me, and we have been close friends ever since. I miss them, and their three children, all the time. But on that evening, they were cooking with us, because I was in Charlotte’s kitchen, using her pots and pans and beautiful earthenware.

Eugénie and I discuss politics.

Eugénie and I discuss politics.

Manon and Eugénie, two girls in France.

Manon and Eugénie, two girls in France.

Xavier, the gardener of the family, walks to the house.

Xavier, the gardener of the family, walks to the house.

Eugénie knows what she likes.

Eugénie knows what she likes.

Hector bears a bountiful tray.

Hector bears a bountiful tray.

A fine French family they are.

A fine French family they are.

The lamb was seared, the vegetables roasted, and the bottles of wine were ideal. We toasted the Cassignols and planned our trip to Alsace. Xavier and Charlotte, we’ll see you soon.

The best plate – and chile relleno – I have ever had in a Tex-Mex joint.

Huntsville, Alabama, Boasts the Nation’s Best Tex-Mex (or Cali-Mex) Joint

August 7, 2014 / / 33 Comments

 

The best plate – and chile relleno – I have ever had in a Tex-Mex joint.

The best plate – and chile relleno – I have ever had in a Tex-Mex joint, anywhere. Look at those beans.

Meet Oscar Gutierrez, whose team has been making the best Tex-Mex in American for ...

Meet Oscar Gutierrez, whose team has been making the best Tex-Mex in America for years and years. And Oscar is one of the finest men you’ll encounter this side of Heaven or Hell.

There is a small restaurant in Huntsville, Alabama, whose kitchen is the source of some of the best Tex-Mex food in America. To my palate, it is better than anything Tex-Mex I have tasted in The Lone Star State thus far.

The original Bandito Burrito opened in 1990, and it is owned and operated by Mr. Oscar Gutierrez. Along with Asador Extebarri and Restaurante Arzak (and seven other excellent kitchens), Bandito Burrito is on the Brockhaus List of the 10 Best Restaurants in the World. Mr. Gutierrez has been at his craft for many years, and those countless hours of experience shine through in his food, which people clamor for daily. When I lived in Huntsville it was not uncommon for me to eat at the Bandito four times a week. Sometimes five.

Refried beans. Those two words speak of paradise, and if you like this staple of Tex-Mex, you will, after trying the beans at Bandito Burrito, never be happy with any other examples. Creamy, rich, soft, these beans made in Alabama are supreme.

Chile rellenos (my favorite anywhere, never greasy, always light, and perfectly cooked), enchiladas, tamales, and burritos are also, of course, on the menu here. And as with the refried beans, Oscar’s tomato salsa is some of the best I have tasted. Ample cilantro, the right amount of heat, and a few secret touches combine for bowls of salsa that call for mail-order. (And I would add to my shipment my favorite Bandito plate, the Juan Beeg Dinner, which includes an enchilada, a tamale, that perfect chile relleno, and rice and beans. All for $9.99.)

I miss the food at Bandito Burrito; indeed, it is one of the few restaurants in the world whose tastes I love to summon to my mind on a regular basis. And that gives me a grand idea: I am going to have  Oscar visit me in Houston … and I’ll arrange for him to teach some people here how to cook some kick-ass refried beans and chile rellenos.

Photo of the Day: Eggs and Tubers on a Macau Street

August 5, 2014 / / 0 Comments
Street food is good food.

Street food is good food.

Wandering the streets of Macau is a good way to spend an afternoon and evening, and if you grow hungry finding food will present no difficulty. You could opt for grilled pork or chicken, or perhaps a charred fish. Or, you could order an egg custard tart or curried intestines. What I did one day is stop at this stand, the proprietor of which fried me a few quail eggs and mixed them into a bowl of mashed potatoes. It was a fine lunch.

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