There is a (fairly) new menu at Tony’s, one of Houston’s restaurant-world mainstays. Crudi, to be exact. On it, you will find octopus, tuna, and Hamachi, paired with avocado or caviar or charred cucumber. And salmon.
Ōra King Salmon is there, too. And it’s what you should try today if you find yourself in Houston. The majestic fish is marinated in blood orange and Thai chili, and crisp farro adds texture. Then the fresh basil hits your palate and the dish is complete, and fresh and bright.
The crudi menu at Tony’s: seafood and citrus and more.
Crudo is Italian for “raw.” Pesce crudo is what you have here, and don’t confuse it with sashimi, as chef Victor LaPlanca told Food Republic. (LaPlanca was executive chef at Isola at the time.)
“Compared to sashimi, which I believe is really about appreciating the purity of masterfully sliced fish, crudo is very ingredient-driven. The oil used can dramatically alter the dish’s flavor profile,” says LaPlanca. “At Isola, we use cold-pressed extra-virgin olive oil from Sicily. Because part of the beauty in crudo is its simplicity in preparation, the quality of the ingredients really matter. In order to understand how the different nuances of the oil affect the fish, try experimenting with various nut or even truffle oils to see how the dish’s flavor profile evolves.”
Austin Waiter, the executive chef at Tony’s, respects pesce, and knows how to combine olive oil and citrus and herbs for maximum effect on his crudi menu. The salmon in this dish is in no way overwhelmed by the accompanying ingredients; in fact, every individual component here shines on its own and plays well with its mates. Pair this with a glass of Malvasia Bianca — specifically, Onward’s Pétillant Naturel from Suisun Valley — and your meal will begin well.
When I lived in Paris for the second time, in 2012, I had a small apartment on rue de la Montagne-Sainte-Geneviève, on the fourth floor of a magnificent building whose main entrance was at the far end of a beautiful courtyard. My windows afforded a view of the Pantheon’s dome, the Seine was a brief stroll away, and fruits, vegetables, seafood, meats, cheese, escargots, oysters, rabbit, fowl and poultry, and so much more, were right outside, waiting for me.
My courtyard in Paris.
The courtyard cat greeted me in the morning and at night, and the young woman who lived in one of the ground-floor apartments played her cello often. I’d wave at her as I walked by her windows, strains of Elgar and Bach filling the cobblestoned space. A push of the heavy wooden courtyard door gave me entrée to the narrow sidewalk of rue de la Montagne-Sainte-Geneviève, and the wonder that is Paris.
I would often shop at the small grocery market on the ground floor of the building next door, for coffee and milk and juice and wine … and confit de canard.
Yes, four duck legs, in a cardboard box, in the grocer’s refrigerated section. Once a week or so, I made duck the main course of a meal, serving them with salad or lentils or pasta. They were not expensive, and my guests loved them.
The kitchen of my apartment was small — two electric burners and a tiny sink, plus a minuscule countertop — but in it I cooked well. I poached chicken and made gnocchi and pasta and soup and bread … and prepared the duck confit I bought in the Monoprix. It was a fine and warm kitchen.
A week or so ago, I came across some duck legs in Houston. They were from Grimaud Farms, and they looked excellent, so I knew what I would do. I would confit them.
It’s not a difficult process, and the results are — as anyone who has ever tasted confit de canard knows — more than delectable. Rich, tender, decadent, comforting, the base for any number of dishes. Give yourself 45 minutes or so to carry out the first step (I let my duck legs “cure” in the refrigerator for two days), and then 3 hours or so for the second part of the confit-ing.
The method I use is based on a recipe in The River Cottage Meat Book, by Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall — if you don’t have this magnificent book, buy it today — and involves garlic, salt, shallots, thyme, bay leaves and black pepper … and duck fat.
Duck legs belong here.The duck legs are ready for the refrigerator.
Gather four large duck legs (I did eight legs on my last outing, so adjusted the amount of ingredients accordingly), 4 tablespoons kosher salt, 2 teaspoons freshly ground black pepper, 4 sprigs of fresh thyme, 4 bay leaves (broken), 8 garlic cloves (crushed), 2 shallots (sliced thinly), and 3.5 pounds of duck fat.
Strew 1.5 tablespoons of the salt in the bottom of a deep Dutch oven or casserole, then scatter half of the shallots, garlic, bay leaves, and thyme over the salt. Pat dry the duck legs with a paper towel, then place them, skin-side up, in the casserole. Scatter remaining ingredients on top of the legs, then give them an ample twist of black pepper. Massage the mixture into the legs. Cover and refrigerate for 2 days.
On the second day, we confit. Heat your oven to 225F, and slowly melt the duck fat in a pan. Brush off the duck legs, making sure to remove all of the salt and other ingredients. Arrange the legs snugly in a baking dish — choose one whose sides are high enough to allow ample fat to be poured into it — and pour the melted fat over the whole (make sure that the liquid completely covers the duck). Put in the oven for 2-3 hours, or until the meat is near to falling off of the bone. Remove the dish from the oven and let it cool.
This fat is a treasure.Duck legs submerged in fat.The duck is cooked.
Once the legs have cooled, use tongs to remove them from the fat and place them in a large Mason jar (I use the locking type). Pour enough of the fat over them to cover. Seal the jar, and into the refrigerator it goes. You now have legs that will satisfy, and they will keep for months thusly preserved.
To serve, remove a leg (or two) from their container and scrape from them most of the fat. Place the legs skin-side down on a baking sheet and cook at 450F for 5 minutes. Drain off the melted fat, then return the pan to the oven with the legs, skin-side up, for 5 to 10 minutes, until they are hot and crisp. Serve any way you desire … whole legs with potatoes and a salad, legs with lentils, or remove the meat and pair with pasta, olive oil, and cheese. Or, create something that moves you.
And all that fat? Render it, filter it, and store it in your refrigerator in an airtight container. Fry potatoes in it, or use it when you next confit.
Here’s a look at some images in and around that kitchen in Paris:
It’s a cold and wet day in Chicago, and you want a warm brunch that includes a Bloody Mary and lots of flavor. It’s Christmas season, people are smiling and walking arm in arm down the sidewalks and the city is as beautiful as ever.
Little Goat Diner is your choice. The main dining room and the two counters are already crowded, you wait for your booth, and scan the menu.
RIght away, the Reuben jumps out at you. Smoked corned beef, kimchi, sauerkraut, Havarti, special sauce (you’ll think spicy Thousand Island with a richer, deeper, less acidic undertone), all on grilled rye. It’s what you order. Along with the Bloody Mary, of course.
A Bloody Mary with lots of heat.
Bread grilled with an ample amount of butter, neither too crisp nor too soft, is what you notice first, then a bite off this exemplary sandwich makes everyone else (save your charming and beautiful dining companion) in the loud restaurant fade away.
Your charming and beautiful dining companion.
The kimchi hits your palate, then the meat, then the sauerkraut. The sauce mingles with it all, and you don’t mind that your fingers are covered in butter and sauce and specks of everything between those two pieces of perfect Rye and you are glad you’re in Chicago at that moment.
We’re in Chicago for Christmas, and today at lunch came across a perfect little dish. It was at Somerset, an elegant, two-story restaurant that’s part of the Boka Restaurant Group.
The main dining room — Somerset is meant to evoke a country club vibe — is full of brass and leather and tweedy fabric and wood, but it all meshes in the mind in an airy and comfortable manner. One would not expect cigar smoke in this club, but Martinis and deck shoes would fit right in.
Wood, brass, a welcoming air, and food that makes delicious sense.
Service here is casual but professional; the wine list is thoughtful, with glasses and bottles from $11/$40ish. Domaine Olga Raffault is represented, as are Giovanni Rosso and Billecart Salmon. Cocktails and draft beer mean you won’t suffer from thirst.
To the beet tartare. It comes to table in a bowl, and the first element one notices are the dark crackers studded with sunflower seeds and other nuts. Light, crisp, earthy … the perfect scoop for the beets and cheese. Break off a piece of the cracker, and be sure to get a bite containing everything. When it hits your palate, you’ll like the initial citrusy/smoky rush, which mellows into something deeper, richer. The sunflower seeds give texture, and the cheeses jump on your tongue.
Under all the cheese are cumin yogurt, goat gouda, and sunflower seeds, plus smoked beets. If you are in Chicago, get this.
This beet tartare has been added to The Brockhaus 2018 Top 20 Dishes List.
Holiday season’s here, and the Wein is fine. I’ve already offered up a slate of selections for gatherings, parties, and dinners — click here for my selective and approachable holiday lineup — and I’m tasting a lot of wines, some of which will end up as gifts or being paired with holiday meals. I’m sure you’re doing the same.
Wine shops and bars are also busy, and you should stop by your favorite one(s) and peruse the shelves. Then visit one that you never have before. Find something new to your palate, ask the staff what they’re drinking, and stock up.
To get you started, Avondale Food & Wine’s Holiday Wine Market should be on your agenda. It takes place today (December 13), from 6-8 p.m. For $20, you get appetizers and the chance to stroll through a market featuring pop-up shops including Houston Dairymaids and Heights Vinyl. Bonus: purchase a wine from Avondale’s worthy inventory and your $20 is refundable.
Avondale Food & Wine wants to help get you in a festive mood.
Then, when Saturday arrives, make sure you set some time aside to visit 13 Celsius, because their Annual Holiday Wine Sale & Customer Appreciation Event is taking over the space on Caroline beginning at 11 a.m. A multitude of wine sellers (including Monopole Wines, whose team I recently joined — more on that soon) will be on hand with great pours and amazing bargains.
I’ll let the 13 Celsius crew speak for itself:
It’s that time again! Our annual wine sale and customer appreciation event takes place on Saturday, December 15th.
As our little way of saying thank you for 12 wonderful years, we have scoured the market to find the best wines for you and your family to celebrate and share this holiday season. Come say hello and taste through this massive stable of amazing wines. Decide which ones you like and gleefully purchase them at foolishly low prices.
Finish up the last (or at least some!) of your holiday shopping with: Weights + Measures’ fresh-baked bread Houston Dairymaids with more delectable cheeses than ever before
This event is free to attend and no reservations are required!
Here’s what Monopole will have for you at the sale: the 2015 Kerloo Cellars Cabernet Sauvignon (Columbia Valley Washington), the 2014 Y. Rousseau Tannat (Russian River Valley), and the 2015 “La Sorella” Pinot Noir from de Lancellotti Family Vineyards. Come by and say hello, and taste some great wines.
There’s a beauty in coming to this place, a spot that never tires me. Lamb, beef, masala fried chicken (the best fried chicken in Houston), the Parathadilla — my favorite dish in Houston at the moment — and Hunter’s Beef. More. A lot more. You need the Chicken Hara Masala.
Angela and I introduce people to this table, and the conversions are rapid and deeply felt. One of my goals is to make sure that everyone who knows me dines at this restaurant. At least once. And when you do, don’t forget to bring bottles of wine, because this place is BYOB.
Angela and I lived around the corner from each other in Brooklyn Heights, a few years apart. We both worked at a financial publication in the Financial District, The Bond Buyer, at different times several years apart. Her apartment on Montague Street was small and cold in the winter, mine on Atlantic and Henry was small and too warm in the winter. Our paths never crossed in New York back then, but it seems they were destined to.
With hindsight, it seems only natural that Angela and I should have chosen to live in that Brooklyn neighborhood. Down the street is St. Anne’s School, and restaurants of all sorts, by the hundreds, are a short walk away. Sahadi’s is there, and BAM is nearby. It’s a wonderful place, with fine views of Manhattan — Norman Mailer and Truman Capote, among other great writers and artists, called it home, and I sometimes think about all the adventures Angela and I would have had there if our lives had intersected earlier.
Our meeting had to wait a few more years. It was 2008, and I had been in the United Arab Emirates since February, working at an English-language daily based in Abu Dhabi. Angela arrived in December, having accepted a job on the business desk. I knew the ins and outs of what it took to get settled in the UAE (driver license, mobile-phone and bank accounts, social courtesies and etiquette, bureaucratic idiocy, etc.), so offered to help her get settled.
Early in 2009, we decided to move to Dubai. I was spending a lot of time in that emirate because my friend James lived there (it’s about an hour’s drive from Abu Dhabi straight through the desert), and our employer had dropped the ball regarding Angela’s promised Abu Dhabi lodgings. We settled on a large apartment on the 34th floor of a new high-rise complex with impressive views of the Arabian Gulf.
Here’s a photo gallery of some of the people, places, and things that mean the world to us:
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New friends (too many to mention here), old friends, dinner parties, excursions to Barracuda (a liquor emporium in the Ras al Khaimah desert) to stock up on wine and spirits, trips to Beirut and Oman and Umbria and Barcelona many other places, job changes — Angela and I departed the newspaper for which we moved to the Gulf, she to freelance for The New York Times, Time, and other publications, I to work at Al Arabiya — arguments, smiles, misunderstandings, the sadness and joy of love and life, human frailties … we experienced it all.
Then a farewell to the Emirates for both of us, after nearly five years, and adventures in Europe and India and Russia and Hong Kong and Japan and reunions with friends and an award for Angela in her parent’s ancestral homeland and work in several restaurants in Europe and so much more.
Our journey continued in 2013, back in the U.S. Angela had accepted a job as Texas editor of Xconomy; I spent February of that year in Hong Kong with my friend Dean Cox, then a week or so in Tokyo before heading to New York and a reunion with friends and visits to restaurants and places dear to me (Babbo, Palo Santo, Le Bernardin, the Met, Prospect Park, et al). I flew down to Florida to spend some time with my parents and ailing grandmother. Angela met my parents, and she and I gathered with friends at a lake house in North Carolina, and at The Kentucky Derby (our stay in a haunted bed and breakfast overseen by an eccentric woman was full of spirit). Angela returned to Houston, and I to Florida, where we soon buried Ida, in my mother’s family cemetery next to my grandfather James.
I had begun searching for employment in Houston, and drove north and west from Florida, stopping along the way for a few days in New Orleans (a culinary sojourn, where I dined with a friend at Brigtsen’s, a friend whom I had not seen for years but whose distinctive voice had led me to him from across a crowded room in an artist’s Paris atelier a few years before our New Orleans dinner).
Angela’s parents were kind enough to put me up in their home while I looked for an apartment in Houston, and she and I renewed our adventures in Texas’ Hill Country, Dallas, Austin, Chicago, St. John, California, New Orleans, Berlin and Prague and Puglia. We started The Brockhaus, and took it to Nantucket, where I was hired by Constance and Alison to cook at their wedding (just two of the fine people I’ve met through Angela). I got to know Angela’s family, we celebrated Indian and American holidays, and we travelled with friends (individuals full of art and spirit and soul and grace and love) and spent time with my family and adopted a cat. And we never stopped journeying.
A moment 10 years in the making.
In September of this year, Angela and I finally walked the streets of New York together, the city I love and lived in for 15 years, where, 60 floors above Liberty Street, at the close of a long meal at Manhatta, she said yes.
Where will we venture next? I don’t know, but we can’t wait.
It’s the season of celebratory gatherings and cooking … dinners and parties abound, and the wine flows. I love the days between Thanksgiving and January 1, and approach them with enthusiasm and care. We began this year last week, hosting friends who are passionate about food and wine, and we’ll continue through the first week of 2019.
Mexican chicken soup, carne adovada, sausage balls, sweet potato pie … and wines, of course. Sparkling and read and white, even a vermouth here and there. Uncorking bottles with loved ones and friends and toasting the past, present, and days to come is a thing of joy.
To assist in your merrymaking, I put together seven bottles that would serve you well this holiday season, no matter your culinary plans. Click here for my 2018 wine guide, and drink well.
Want more wine time? Check out my PaperCity library:
The platter came to the table, a communal table, and I served the gentleman to my right. I then served Angela, and placed the remainder on my plate. Ragu bianco, crisp fresh pasta sheets, greens, feta, winter squash, béchamel. It’s been at least two months since I tasted something as comforting and complex and rustic and flavorful. All of the components stand starkly alone, but linger as a symphony on the palate. William Wright, of Helen Greek Food and Wine, created this for a fundraising dinner at Poitín for Urban Harvest, and it was more than good.
The holiday season is here, and we’re stocking up on some party and dinner wines. Two that will be on my table are the 2016 Carneros Chardonnay and the 2015 Napa Cabernet Sauvignon, notable selections from Frank Family Vineyards. Their price points and characteristics are perfect for entertaining and pairing, and The Brockhaus recommends them.
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