Category: Uncategorized (Page 10 of 19)

‘It’s Really Hard’: The Human Spirit Is a Thing of Confounding Beauty

The woman stands on the street in front of her home, in the Braeswood section of  Houston, pieces of her life stacked haphazardly on the lawn, edging out over the curb. Battered sections of walls, mattresses, a cat’s scratching post, bedspreads and pillows and other items I did not immediately recognize. We had just emerged from a home across the way, a house that, though it stood on a piece of land comfortably above street level, had flooded on Sunday during Harvey’s onslaught. Its owners had been forced to retreat to their attic, saw in hand; they were, they told us, planning to cut a hole in the roof and signal for rescue.

“We went to bed the night before thinking we would be OK; we had never flooded here, this house had never flooded” the husband says. “It was around midnight, and the water was flowing in the street, but we were dry, no water in our house. We set the alarm for 4 a.m., just to make sure, and still, OK.” Then, his wife says, 6 a.m arrived; she got out of bed and saw the water flowing across the kitchen floor. “Harvey was waiting us out; he waited everyone out.”

This woman had nearly died during Hurricane Ike. “I was driving and went through some water that was too high; I jumped out of the car and tried to walk, but the current was strong,” she recounts. “The water was up to my waist, and I grabbed a street sign. A man was wading toward me, no shirt, struggling. He reached for me, and we walked together, me first, grabbing onto something, pulling him, then he would do the same.”

We were on the couple’s back patio. The home’s swimming pool was half empty, the water in it turned green with algae. “I could not find any of my shoes,” the woman tells us. “I guess they all floated away. They gave me these,” she says, nodding toward the brown canvas loafers on her feet. “They” are the people whose nearby home she and her husband were taken to in the boat that had ferried them away from their flooded home. “I need to find them and thank them. They fed us.”

Back on the street, the couple’s neighbor surveys the pile, shaking her head. “It’s hard,” she says, lowering her gaze.

The photographs below were taken by my friend Michael Pitzen in the Braeswood neighborhood. House after house ruined, the remnants of life piled high.

« of 17 »

Earlier that day, I had spent several hours working at Reef, a restaurant in Houston. It had been transformed into a staging area for relief efforts, and its owners, Bryan and Jennifer Caswell, had opened it to World Central Kitchen, a charitable organization founded by José Andrés. The large space, currently under renovation, was full of activity; a line of volunteers assembled sandwiches, others unloaded boxes of produce from a truck parked outside. The bar area was overflowing with items destined for the displaced and those who saved them; energy bars were stacked next to bags of avocados, sport drinks shared a table with tortillas.

José Andrés and I at Reef.

I took some packages of beef brisket to the kitchen and put them in a sink to thaw, then carried two large trash bags of lettuce to the dining room. There, three of us assembled salads for 500 people in Beaumont. Every 15 minutes or so, someone would walk in off the street to volunteer. One of the newcomers joined our brigade, and we continued.

The brisket had thawed, so I cut it from the bags and arranged it in four baking pans. An oven had been set up on Reef’s front patio, and I slid the pans into it. The meat, along with the salad, would feed the group in Beaumont.

Walking back into the dining room, I saw Felix Flores on the sandwich line. Flores owns Black Hill Ranch, on which he raises a variety of pigs. The ranch had flooded, and a large number of the animals there had drowned, piglets and sows. Flores and his teen-age son, a day or two after surveying the damage at the ranch, were at Reef to help, father and son spreading mayonnaise on pieces of white bread, stacking slices of meat on top of sandwich after sandwich, each a little offering of hope.

Inside Reef, the work continues.

A Frittata For Emma: Cooking This Will Make You Happy (Plus, Wine, Music, and Foie Gras)

Buddy and Emma (far right) Sullivan, with Maruja and Pepita in the 1950s.

Brooklyn Heights, 2004. That’s the year I met Emma Sullivan and her cousins Maruja and Pepita. Emma owned The Long Island Restaurant, one door down from our apartment on Atlantic Avenue. I was in the restaurant often. It was (and still is) a beautiful time-capsule of a place, booths and wooden bar, photographs of Buddy — Emma’s late husband — and other family members behind the bar, a manual cash register that made me smile when Emma opened it. The sound was comforting. It was a warm and gentle room.

Emma closed up shop in 2007; she and Buddy had taken it over in 1956. Hers was a 51-year run of countless conversations and days and nights making guests feel at home. I miss walking into her restaurant, and probably always will. (The space was reopened in 2013, after Emma leased it to a pair of worthy guys. Next time you are in Brooklyn, pay them a visit.)

I wrote this week about Emma and her cousins and The Long Island Restaurant for PaperCity magazine, and included a frittata recipe based on that special woman and her cousins. You might like to make the dish one morning, or night. Think of Emma — or someone whose life is special to you — when you do.

Like good music and wine, plus some tasty crab cakes? If so, and you find yourself in Missouri City, Texas, check out B’s Wine Bar. Angela and I were there last night, and the band was hot, the crowd stylish and fun, and the staff welcoming and obviously excited about their work.

Drink some wine here in Missouri City, Texas. (Courtesy D-Mars.com)

Angela and I were seated in the wine room, just the two of us at a quaint table, the kind one finds in parks in Paris. We talked and drank and laughed and found a place new to us to which we’ll return. (Thanks for the recommendation, Kennady.)

How’s this for a transition: I love foie gras. I’ve eaten it in Spain, in Dubai, in Paris, in New York, in Italy, in New Delhi, and, most recently, last week in Houston. It’s from Hudson Valley Foie Gras, and it’s prepared in a wonderful way. Take a look at this:

That’s Foie Gras alla Fiamma, newly added to the tasting menu at Tony’s, and it’s good. Order it and savor the preparation process. There’s Moscato and a vanilla bean and a grape, and it’s served with toasted farro. Sensual, delicious, decadent.

Restaurant Weeks NYC and Houston, and Chicken Paprikash: Summer Is Winding Down

New York City, 1995. I had arrived a few months earlier to begin a new job with a newspaper, and was visiting restaurants and bars that had been on my list for a long while. Sign of the Dove. La Grenouille. Elaine’s. Le Veau d’Or. McSorley’s. So many more, some long gone, others still thriving, pleasing guests night after night, attracting people from around the world to the streets and avenues of New York. That summer, I participated in NYC Restaurant Week; we made a few reservations at select places, and had (mostly) good experiences. It was a pleasure to sit and watch out-of-towners eat — I had already become a New Yorker, at least in my heart and mentality — and it felt good. The tables were ours. The latest version of NYC Restaurant Week runs through August 18, giving you 12 more days to pay $29 for lunch or $42 for dinner at places including Porsena, Hearth, Lupa, and ABC Kitchen. If you can, go.

La Grenouille, around since 1962.

Houston Restaurant Weeks (HRW) is also upon us, and it features 277 establishments giving a portion of their proceeds from special menus ($45 dinner, $20 lunch, with some exceptions) to the Houston Food Bank to help feed the hungry. I’ve tasted from some of the offerings, and will surely get to more, and encourage everyone to make some reservations. Go to a place you might not otherwise. Hunger is no laughing matter, and Houston is full of people who don’t know where their next meal will come from. Do some good, have some fun, and tip well.

Want some suggestions for HRW? Amalfi Ristorante Italiano & Bar and Sud Italia are home to some good pasta and proteins, and a visit to Ginger & Fork will introduce you to mushrooms and rice noodles that are not to be missed.

When you’re out and about during HRW, you’ll be wanting some wine to pair with your meals. Why not make it a full evening and have a glass of Rosé as an apéritif? Stoller Family Estate has produced one that I like (click here to read about it), but the Pink Universe is large, so you’ll have no difficulties choosing a good bottle. In addition, many of the restaurants participating in HRW have selected wines they think pair well with their menus, an easy opportunity for you to taste something new.

Tomatoes and Wagyu done well

Speaking of new, a dish was added to the menu at Tony’s last week, and it’s something you’ll want. The Carpaccio di Pomodoro is tomato and Wagyu heaven, and I featured it in a piece for PaperCity on my (current) Dream Team of dishes in Houston. You can read about it here. (There’s also some great tacos and pasta on my team.)

 

For those of you wanting a hearty meal at home, I offer Chicken Paprikash. I cooked it on Sunday, and based it on the recipe featured by Sam Sifton in The Times. Use a combination of sweet and hot smoked paprika, and make sure to go with bone-in chicken. Cooking it is simple — you’ll have to brown the chicken in a Dutch oven for a few minutes — and when the smokiness of the paprika meets the sour cream, your evening will be set. Pair your Paprikash with a bottle of this Pinot Noir and a salad of mixed greens, and the picture is complete.

We Drank Canned Wine, Tried Doughnut Sliders, Opened a Chardonnay … and What Fine Pastas

You go from table to table, hoping for memorable tastes and flavors, food prepared well, made with thought and care. There’s something edifying about the act of finding it, sharing it with others, appreciating it. You’ve learned to deal with the moments when the taste and flavors do not deliver, when shrimp is overcooked and enchiladas taste like sawdust and not much more, when this food writer or that restaurant reviewer lauds the cuisine of the latest farm-to-table restaurant or poke mecca and you wait a month to try it and find it lackluster at best. Taste is subjective, after all, isn’t it? One man’s bland bowl of borscht is another’s Proustian interlude, no? Those disappointing meals serve to whet your appetite for the next pleasurable repast, as vexing as they might be.

Recently, the good moments have come with satisfying regularity, the pastas done well, the branzino pleasing, the (yes) spicy tofu all that tofu can and should be. You looked on and listened as your friend (and Brockhaus sous chef) Chris savored the rigatoni bianco Bolognese you knew he would love, his sighs audible. Yes, it’s been a good week or two at the table in Houston, days that included a brunch at Tony Mandola’s Gulf Coast Kitchen that featured doughnut sliders that were just what I needed at the time, though I was unaware of the need before I tasted them. (Click here for a look.) The sweet and savory plate is a grand antidote to a night of celebration.

To that Bolognese, which has been my favorite pasta in Houston for a few months now. It’s at Tony’s, and if you have not tried it, you are missing something you shouldn’t.

I have a feeling that Marcella Hazan would have loved this. It’s rigatoni with a Bolognese bianco sauce.

I was hooked the first time I tried this dish; it’s complex, speaks of hours in the pot, the simmering and melding of the meat and vegetables and breaking down of the parts into a whole that transports. Each ingredient retains its place of pride — look at the carrots, their shape exact and right — but the technique that goes into making this course creates a tour de force of rich and subtle flavors, something full of rustic gusto and refined grace. Appreciate the saltiness of the cheese and the acidity of the olive oil. If all goes well, you’ll have this more than once.

Wine was also fine during these days and nights, and we even enjoyed some in cans. An unoaked Chardonnay and a red blend (Zinfandel, Syrah, and Merlot) from Ron Rubin Winery did us good, and we paired a Chardonnay from Mitsuko’s Vineyard with chèvre and bread.  (Ray Isle recently tasted some canned wines as well, and his review of them is a good read.)

If you can find a bottle of this, open it and drink.

During a dinner at the home of Russ and Judy Labrasca, Angela and I were treated to a 1997 Chimney Rock Cabernet Sauvignon, and a ’96 from Saddleback, the latter a lovely bottle, mellowed into a dream, the former drinking well though expressing charms of a more typical manner. Russ and Judy are a couple — Angela met them when she worked in Dallas, and introduced them to me not long after I arrived in Houston — I consider myself honored to know, friends without parallel. We drank those wines with hamburgers and Judy’s customary spread, and it was good.

With friends like these, one needs nothing more.

Houston Restaurant Weeks is upon us, the annual event that has done so much good for so many people in need of a square meal since it was founded, back in 2003. I sampled a few HRW menus this week, and came across another worthy pasta and a branzino of note, both on the menu at Amalfi Ristorante Italiano & Bar. The pasta, a tortelli, is filled with Asiago, potatoes, and pancetta, and served with beef short ribs. Tender, al dente pasta, top-notch cheese and pancetta, and, OK, the short rib is wonderful. The sea bass, my favorite item on Amalfi’s HRW menu, is accompanied by potato gnocchi, roasted artichoke, and a lemon cream sauce. Sea, lemon, olive oil, gnocchi … try these, and donate $7 to the Houston Food Bank in the process.

Let’s see what comes next …

Of Duck, Brisket Tacos, and a Good Sauvignon Blanc (Plus a Fine Bartender Makes a Good Cocktail)

I like duck. I like to eat it, and I like to cook it. I like to confit it. I love the legs and the breast. I love it all — duck feet and beaks in Hong Kong as well. (During one of my residences in Paris, the grocery store near my apartment sold a wonderful confit de canard in the refrigerated section, two pieces for, as I recollect, five or so euros. Ahh, we’ll always have Paris … )

A week or so ago, I had a very good plate of duck confit in Houston, at Toulouse, a restaurant whose Dallas location (the original one in the two-location mini-chain) was once one of Angela’s favorites. Here’s my take on that duck, and the rest of the meal. The lentils were excellent, by the way.

You like tacos? Yes, don’t we all. Texas is home to its fair share of them, and you would have to eat at a different place daily for years to get to all of them. A new restaurant in Houston is serving a great brisket taco at the moment, and I ordered it last week. I recommend you try one or several. Read about it and see it here.

Now to some wine. I not long ago opened a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc, a 2016 Sauvignon Blanc from Ehlers Estate, and was, in a word, refreshed. It was clean and crisp, it was balanced impeccably, and it was oh so good with the chicken I had cooked. So good it was that I’m going to open another bottle this weekend. Read about it here.

Finally, as I write this, it’s cocktail time. A good bartender I know, who works at one of my favorite restaurants in Houston, this week accepted the challenge of creating a cocktail that included Ancho Reyes Verde, a rather spicy liqueur made of poblano chilis. She did quite well, and if you want to watch her make it, see this.

Eat well, and with people you love.

When You Find Yourself in Sorrento Wanting To Eat Well

Your car arrives around 7:30, and it’s taking you to dinner. You’ve been invited by a famous resident of Sorrento, Giuseppe “Peppe” Fiorentino. You don’t know where you are going, and it doesn’t matter, because Peppe knows his city and its restaurants as no one else does. You are confident that you’ll dine well.

The driver guides the Fiat up a hill, past a man walking a boxer and a woman pushing a stroller. The air is warm, the sun’s light muted; a light breeze pushes a lemon tree’s leaves to and fro. You are hungry. The car pulls to a stop in a small parking lot, and the driver motions you toward a path, a walkway under an archway of magnolia and orange and lemon trees. To your right, a fenced area containing goats and chickens and ducks. You stop to look at the kids and their mother, then continue down the path, at the end of which you see a sign. You are at Ristorante “Da Filippo”.

Peppe comes here often, is like family to the owners, a family themselves. Two daughters of the owner oversee the floor, bringing bottles of wine and glasses of beer to the tables. You walk inside, mention Peppe’s name, and a waiter points to a table occupied by a man and a woman; they seem to be waiting on someone — Peppe had told you on the phone the night before that friends of his, a couple from Mexico City, would be joining us for dinner. I walked to the table and introduced myself to Salvador and Luisa, who told me they were the first to arrive. We poured some prosecco and I learned that they had been coming to the city for years, perhaps 30, and were now looking for a home to purchase in Sorrento. They had met Peppe and his wife, Marina, on one of their first trips to the Amalfi Coast, and became fast friends.

Ten or so minutes went by, and then came Peppe, gregarious and smiling. He stopped to speak to one of the daughters, gave her a hug, then joined us at the head of the table, eyes alit, his smile knowing and open. Ciro, our waiter, came to stand at his side, and the two discussed wine, deciding on a Falanghina, one made not in a “business” winery but at someone’s home. The bottle, when it arrived, bore no label. What was in the bottle was honest, open, crisp, straw in color, a wine that, I would soon decide, paired oh so well with the seafood that came our way. (I first met Peppe in 2016 in Houston, was introduced to him by Tony Vallone — the two men have been friends for decades.)

We were soon joined by Marina and Peppe’s sister. Marina sat next to me, and Peppe was to my right; she was born in the north of England, to an Italian mother and an English father, and she’s as friendly and warm as her husband. I was sitting with genuine, unpretentious people, in their home, and it felt good.

The food began coming from the kitchen: baby octopus followed by calamari and lightly fried sardines caught, as conveyed to me by Ciro, “but a few hours ago.” Crisp, delicate breading on all, the taste of the sea abundant and stark, the frying method astute and learned. (Authenticity cannot be faked; overcooked seafood is not a thing of beauty.) Next, an eggplant Parmigiana, with cheese redolent of tame oak smoke, and eggplant slices slightly tangy, enrobed in a tomato sauce of a hearty richness. Slicing into it released the cheese, which slowly mingled with the sauce. The waiter had served the squares from a large platter, and the table grew quiet as we ate.

Salvador and his habanero powder

Salvador and his habanero powder

The conversation quickly resumed, however, and I asked Salvador what he had sprinkled on his eggplant dish. He was holding a small bottle of what looked to be some sort of powder. It was habanero powder, one that he made by drying the peppers in the sun.

“I leave them outside in the day for two to three weeks, bringing them in at night to keep the moisture away , then I run them through spice grinder,” he told me. I tasted it, and wished he had a jar to sell me. It was full of habanero flavor, and a small shake of it on the eggplant was wonderful. Heat, richness, sun. I’m going to make my own.

Ciro then brought a beautiful oval tray of risotto to the table … the saffron color shone, and assembled around the rice a multitude of vongole, small, shells open, ready for us. These clams were full of flavor, briny, tender, but with a bite, and the risotto was al dente and moist, and a mouthful containing the green beans and tomatoes with the clams and risotto was enough to produce a sigh, a contended sigh.

Risotto and clams, a match made in heaven.

Marina told me how she met Peppe — she had moved to Italy to work in the tourism industry when she was a young woman, where their paths crossed. They dated, and have been together ever since, 40-plus years. As we were talking, Peppe’s niece came in, pushing Paolo in a stroller … three-week-old Paolo, Peppe’s first and only nephew, and though it seemed not possible, his eyes grew even livelier at the sight of the black-haired boy. The family was complete.

Ciro consulted with Peppe about the next course; fish was the decision, and we continued drinking our Falanghina. I discovered that Salvador was the founder and creator of Salvador’s Margarita — he sold the brand a few years back, and is officially retired. (He and his wife travel often, and Salvador, who owned a number of restaurants during his career, cooks often for friends and family.)

To the cod: two large filets, cooked with delicacy and covered with a mixture of crisp and spicy bread crumbs and olive oil (the filets were passed under the broiler for a minute or two at the end of cooking). Buttery in the mouth, moist, a proper main course. Ciro served us, and the meal proceeded.

The cod arrives at the table.

Paolo was “kidnapped” by one of the waitresses, who walked him around the restaurant, stopping by tables and talking with guests. We discussed dessert, Donald Trump, and wine, deciding on cheese and a sweet red wine from the area. A Parmigiano-Reggiano, aged for 36 months, was the star, and a Caciottina canestrata di Sorrento an ample mate. Glasses clinked, the evening grew late, and it was time for Paolo to get to his crib. We lingered over the cheese and wine; meanwhile, the tables around us, now full, were full of laughter and conversation. It was a beautiful Friday evening in Sorrento.

A meal must always end … but only in that way can another begin.

Did you say you were pondering a trip to the Amalfi Coast? If you go, make sure to put an evening at Ristorante “Da Filippo” on your itinerary — tell them Peppe and James sent you.

Dinner with a grand man of Sorrento: Giuseppe “Peppe” Fiorentino

Guy Stout’s Wine Classes Are Back: Four Nights, Lots of Bottles and Learning

I am a fortunate man, for many reasons. Being able to call Guy Stout a friend is one of them. He’s a true character, a larger-than-life, Texas-born-and-bred original. I’ve learned a lot from him, and look forward to learning more. We’ve shared a table on numerous occasions, and opened a good number of bottles. It’s like a moveable feast, one always full of great stories and food.

A man of wine. (Photo by Alfonso Cevola)

A man of wine. (Photo by Alfonso Cevola)

If you like wine, and want to know more about it, your chance is now, because Stout’s Wine School is back. Beginning on Nov. 7, he’ll introduce you to the world of oenology, delving into the New World and the Old World, the basic and the esoteric. Don’t miss these four evenings. Click here for all the details, and get ready to be schooled.

(Read this for Stout’s Wine Talk.)

Mark Cuban Opens Up, Talks About His Love for White Castle Burgers and ‘The Fountainhead’

The more I come to know about Mark Cuban, the more I like him. I admire people who speak their mind, who don’t take “no” for an answer, who push themselves and others to go for the best, and that’s Cuban. He’s brash, smart, outspoken, he likes to succeed, and he loves to help people with good ideas succeed. He’s a busy man, so I was happy when he agreed to answer a few questions; we exchanged a number of emails, and he took time out from filming in New York to send me his thoughts and opinions. Click here for Mark Cuban Discussing Under the Influence.

Interrogating the Developer Behind — To Name But One Landmark — NYC’s Lipstick Building

PaperCity‘s first-ever bound issue hit the stands earlier this month, and the accolades have been pouring in. For 22 years, the Houston and Dallas editions were published in tabloid format, bringing thousands of stories and images to an ever-expanding audience. Now, a new look, and a new energy, promise 22 more years (plus!) of  profiles and events and insight. Stay tuned, and thanks for reading.

Here’s a look at a piece I did for the Septembers issue; it’s a new feature we are calling “Discussing Under the Influence,” and Gerald D. Hines is our first subject. Click here to find out what makes the billionaire developer tick.

 

The Brockhaus Returns to its (Houston) Beginnings: November 12 Marks a Montrose Homecoming

It’s a house in the Montrose section of Houston, the home of dear friends. It’s a lovely place, with a pool and lots of art. And it was the venue for The Brockhaus’s premiere evening, back in September of 2014. Eight guests, engaging and stimulating conversation, lots of laughter, and, of course, food and wine. We attracted a bit of attention, made some new friends, and went on to stage dinners on Nantucket, in the Galleria area, in the Heights of Houston, near Dallas, and, back in Houston, in Memorial (evenings in two homes there). May 7 was the date of the most recent event, and 10 guests gathered around the table then. There were truffles and lobster and, again, some great wines.

The First Supper menu

The First Supper menu

That house in Montrose kept calling to me, and now it’s time for a return engagement. On November 12, The Brockhaus will cook again at the bungalow, in what will be a homecoming of sorts, a homecoming and an evening in honor of late chefs and cooks who have inspired us. We’ll remember Charlie Trotter and Fernand Point, Julia Child and Edna Lewis, plus Craig Claiborne and Michel Richard. Their lives and passions, and their approach to food. This is an homage, a celebration, not a re-creation. The menu was inspired by these greats, and it’s a progression of courses that we are certain would please them all.

Snapper

Snapper, zucchini agrodolce

Without further ado, the menu (and as always, there will be surprises):

THE BROCKHAUS HOMECOMING
November 12, 2016

1.
Billi Bi
Craig Claiborne

San Salvatore “Pian di Stio” Campania 2015 (Fiano) — Special bottling of Fiano in a 500-ml bottle, back-to-back Tre Bicchieri from Gambero Rosso.  Imagine a crisp mineral-driven white with the secondary notes of young Sherry.

2.
Butter-Poached Lobster 
Charlie Trotter

Terlano “Nova Domus” Alto-Adige 2008 Magnum (60 percent Pinot Bianco, 30 percent Chardonnay, 10 percent Sauvignon) — The winery has produced this stellar blend since 1893. It’s a  wine built to age.  .

3.
Corn Nugget Crab Cakes
Michel Richard

Michele Satta Viognier Bolgheri 2013 — A Tuscan from the man who planted some of the most famous vineyards in the world.  An incredible  Viognier with broad appeal.

4.
Quail in Champagne
Fernand Point

Pietro Cassina “Ca’ daj Tàss” Coste delle Sesia DOC 2011 — Super-soft style of Nebbiolo from Lessona in northwest Piedmont.

5.
Wagyu Ribeye with Chimichurri
Julia Child

Donatella Cinelli Colombini Casato “Prime Donne” Brunello di  Montalcino 2010 ~ First-all female winery in Italy, a silky/complex style of Brunello; the winery is in (far) north Montalcino. Special blend assembled by five women hailing from four different countries. The 2010 is considered the best one ever (so far).

6.
Very Good Chocolate Cake
Edna Lewis

Tolaini “Valdisanti”  2011 (75 percent Cabernet Sauvignon, 20 percent Sangiovese 5 percent  Cabernet Franc) — Michel Rolland and Diego Bonato made this Super Tuscan in a specific part of Chianti Classico famous for producing powerful reds.

The Brockhaus is pleased to be partnering with Jeremy W. Hart,  regional manager for Banville Wine Merchants.  I have enjoyed talking with Jeremy about wines, and know you will, too. He’s based in Houston, and covers Texas, Louisiana, New Mexico, Oklahoma, and Colorado, and recently announced a wine-and-dining tour that will take place in several cities. Live and Let Dine will feature dinners at Commander’s Palace, Italic, Galatoire’s, Hunky Dory, June’s, and many more.  Go to liveandletdinetour.com for further information. The Brockhaus is looking forward to experiencing Live and Let Dine.

$145 per person/wine pairing with each course/mirth/new friends

 IMG_8633 IMG_8629 DSC_2248

« Older posts Newer posts »

© 2024 Mise en Place

Theme by Anders NorenUp ↑