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Wine, Food, and Other Vital Things

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A German Repast

February 27, 2014 / / 3 Comments
All one needs for sensual nourishment.

All one needs for sensual nourishment.

In a small town — perhaps it is technically a village — in Germany, near Kaiserslautern, lives a family to whom I am very close. I have known them since the 1980s, and think of them often. They have told me to consider their home my home in Germany, and I do. I wish I could see them more often.

Whenever I am with them I am reminded yet again how rich and diverse Europe’s food offerings are. Gudrun always sets a fine table, and the dinner pictured above was no exception. You sit in the dining room, snow falling outside, and the cheeses and meats and wines – and conversation – make the evening something you want never to end.

A Hike in Die Pfalz, Ending With Fine Bowls of Soup

February 26, 2014 / / 0 Comments
A vista that is etched in my mind.

A vista that is etched in my mind.

Quite often, memories of dishes or tastes from the past fly into my head, and I, with pleasure, recall the beautiful culinary experience that is the source of the memory. These moments of gustatory recollection are usually sparked by thoughts of friends, or places in which I spent time, or streets I walked down on my way to a restaurant.

Yesterday die Pfalz flew into my brain, most specifically a hike in the Vorderpfalz with my friend Holger in the summer of 2012. We had driven from Mannheim, and were on our way to Kaiserslautern, where Holger lives with his wife and sons. We stopped for a hike, because the Vorderpfalz is a beautiful area, and it was a beautiful day: sun out, warm, a relaxed Sunday.

And that culinary memory, that taste? This time it was bowls of soup, which we ate outside on picnic tables on top of the ridge up which we had hiked. It was made in a small kitchen in a wooden cabin, a restaurant of sorts on the ridge, and contained Polish sausage and delicious, smoky broth and potatoes, among other ingredients. Around us, hikers drank beer and wine, and Holger and I looked out over the rolling green.

Bowls of soup after a hike, a good thing to remember. Bowls of soup after a hike, a good memory.

On My Mind Today, or, Remembrance of Things Past

February 23, 2014 / / 0 Comments

Batman, and Yves and Michele. And the bistro that will be forever etched in my mind. It’s called Le Temps des Cerises, and it’s in the 4th in Paris, on Rue du Petit Musc. Batman is a Jack Russell terrier, and he belongs to Yves and Michele, who for many years operated this wonderful place, across from which I once worked. Mornings it would be un café at the bar, then back for lunch — and some of the best food to be had in Paris. The cook was an ex-Navy man, a sailor, and the wines were diverse and priced fairly. After work we’d meet for beers and conversation. Michele would call out to “James Dean,” which is how she referred to Dean and me. Her smile and laughter I see and hear still. Batman would patrol the narrow sidewalk out front. It was one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever spent time in. I felt at home there.

A few years ago Yves and Michele gave up Le Temps des Cerises. In the summer of 2013 Angela and I visited Batman’s place. It was not the same, and never again will be.

Au revoir, my dear place.

Au revoir, my dear place.

Roost Has Hooked Me

February 22, 2014 / / 4 Comments
This is one of the best things I have put in my mouth in a long time.

This is one of the best things I have put in my mouth in a long time.

There’s a Notes list on my iPhone that grows larger daily. It’s a list of restaurants in Houston I plan to visit. Last night I crossed one off of the roster, a restaurant about which I have heard a lot, good things. It’s called Roost.

I have been looking for a restaurant here with “personality,” which in my book means, loosely, “not slick and shiny, not a place that looks as if it belongs in a hotel lobby or was designed with ‘wow’ in mind.” Too often, I have found lately, more attention is devoted to wall hangings and shiny displays than it is to the food. Roost, however, has the type of personality I want. Small space, a bar at which two people can sit, lots of wood, simple tables and chairs, eclectic decoration on the walls. It’s in a house on a fairly quiet street in a residential area of Houston, and my dinner there was one of the most enjoyable evenings I’ve spent dining in this city thus far.

I arrived a little after 6 and waited for Angela at the bar, which overlooks a small room that has a pass-through to the kitchen. A Sixpoint (in a can, a tallboy) was my order, and I sat and drank and watched the activity as diners began walking in. Roost does not take reservations for parties of fewer than six, but outside the restaurant picnic benches provide perfect seats in which to wait for your table. The chef and owner, Kevin Naderi, was out out at those tables lighting the heat lamps.

Angela arrived, and we took our seat at a table along the back wall that gave us a perfect view of the dining room, which by that time was filling quickly, mostly parties of four, with a few couples mixed in. The menu at Roost has just been changed, and I was impressed: highlights to my eye were hanger steak, mussels in a red curry, an oyster stack, an off-menu special of redfish. And the “famous” cauliflower.

An oyster stack at Roost is a good thing.

An oyster stack at Roost is a good thing.

We ordered the cauliflower, the oyster stack, an order of the mussels, and the hanger steak, with a bottle of Hahn pinot noir. In short, every dish was very good, especially the fried cauliflower, with its sauce and pignoli and onions. (It is usually served with bonito flakes, but we asked from them on the side, though I later nestled them on top of each floret.)

Hanger steak done with class.

Hanger steak done with class.

The fried oysters were breaded perfectly, and the sautéed spinach under them was a great touch. The mussels were cooked well, full of flavor, which the curry (tomato-based) complemented ideally. Hanger steak medium rare with kimchi rice (a half order) and a runny egg came to the table with aplomb: nice temperature, fine flavor, though it could have used a bit of salt at the end.

You like crisp-on-the-outside doughnuts? How about coffee ice cream and pistachios? Then get this.

You like crisp-on-the-outside doughnuts? How about coffee ice cream and pistachios? Then get this.

Finally, the beignet-like round donuts and coffee ice cream finished our meal. (And a note about the service: Some of the best I have encountered in Houston. Not obsequious, informed, calm, and each plate came out with perfect timing. We were able to enjoy the meal in a relaxed manner. Someone has conducted great training at Roost.)

There’s Some Great (Vietnamese) Rabbit in Pearland, Texas

January 12, 2014 / / 1 Comment

Pearland is a small place in south Texas, situated off of 45 South 30 miles or so from Galveston. If you find yourself near there, schedule some time for Thanh Phuong and order the TP Special Rolls (Nem Nướng Cuốn) and the deep-fried rabbit.

The rolls are full of grilled pork – and it is crisp and rich and deep in flavor – and mint and a few other vegetables, but the pork stars.

And the rabbit. Several years ago while in Florence I happened across a restaurant and delighted in a perfect plate of rabbit, and since then have looked for another example. I found it in Pearland.

The rabbit at Thanh Phuong reminded me of a dish I loved in Florence several years ago.

The rabbit at Thanh Phuong reminded me of a dish I loved in Florence several years ago. 

The pieces of rabbit were dipped in a light, slightly sweet batter, a batter that included sesame seeds. It was fried along with garlic and a few pieces of ginger, whose taste was barely noticeable but proper, and plated with onions and peppers and a very pleasant acidic sauce.
Angela and I are already planning a return trip.

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.

A Fat Bao Evening, or, My Kind of Surf and Turf

December 13, 2013 / / 0 Comments

Houston is delighting me. I have met, in my few months here thus far, some great people in the restaurant and food world, and I’ve been led by them into a diverse and exciting universe. The list in my Notes app that contains places I intend to visit is growing by the day – it now contains 67 restaurants and bars – and I look forward to discovering many more great dishes.

Speaking of which, earlier this week I walked through the doors of Fat Bao, a restaurant that more than a few people had told me I must try and which was at the top of my list. It was a cold night, and I was looking forward to the soft shell crab a colleague had raved about. She was right.

You have pork and soft shell crab. You need nothing else.

You have pork and soft shell crab. You need nothing else. I give you the Pork Katsu Bao, left, and the Crab Daddy Bao.

I waited for a few minutes in line to order my bao, and the staff was courteous and friendly, and efficient. Fat Bao stocks a great selection of beers, including Hitachino Nest, many bottles of which I enjoyed in Hong Kong and Tokyo earlier this year. The menu, written on a blackboard, is a broad one, but I was there for the soft shell crab and the pork, and that is what I chose.

I took a number and a seat, and waited for my food. A few minutes later it arrived. The buns were warm and soft, and the proteins were excellent … and accompanied by crisp cabbage and perfect, slightly spicy, sauces. Freshness, warmth, a little heat. Total satisfaction for 15 minutes.

I will return to Fat Bao, as soon as I reach the end of my list.

What a Difference a Year Makes (Especially a Year Spent in France and Spain and Germany and Hong Kong and India and Tokyo and … )

November 2, 2013 / / 1 Comment
Voice Media Group's Houston Press has a new managing editor.

Voice Media Group’s Houston Press has a new managing editor.

I’m back in the US of A, after being abroad since February of 2008. I left the deserts of the UAE in July 2012 and landed in Frankfurt, the first stop on my yearlong work and experience tour, which took me to great kitchens in Mannheim, San Sebastián and Paris, wherein I met some excellent cooks and a few inspiring – and inspired – chefs. (More on that later.) My only regret? That I was unable to spend much more time in those kitchens with those people working with that food.

Sojourns in Kaiserslautern, Barcelona, Girona, Marly-le-Roi, Paris, Gujarat, Hong Kong and Tokyo, and travels by automobile through Provence and Alsace and Montreux and France and Kutch and many other beautiful and welcoming locales, gave me beauty and rest, and I encountered individuals who told me their stories and showed kindness to a stranger, and received it in return. Angela and I ate and drank and saw sights amazing and funny in Paris and India and Louisville (at the Derby), and we shared laughs with some wonderful people in North Carolina during a weekend reunion with high school classmates of mine from Germany. Beth and her family hosted us, and we roasted a suckling pig and drank some good wines and beers and continued a long and priceless relationship.

The year also allowed me to spend time with a few great friends, including Holger and Gudrun and Tim and Max, Dean and Julie, Xavier and Charlotte and Manon, Hector and Eugenie. And I was able to enjoy a month or so with my parents and my sister Julie and her family in  Florida, a time that included joy and sadness, as we bid farewell to Ida, my grandmother, in whose Savannah kitchen I first began to discover that food existed for more – much more – than merely satisfying hunger.

The journey continues … Angela was offered a great position in Houston, so I began looking for a job there, hoping to combine my love of cooking and culinary knowledge with my background in journalism. I succeeded, and am now the managing editor at the Houston Press, a Voice Media Group publication, where I also oversee food and restaurant coverage. I am enjoying getting to know the sprawling, eclectic, and sometimes maddening space that is the Houston food world, and the people who make it happen.

More to come.

A note from a great woman ...

An Impromptu and Perfect Lunch

August 28, 2013 / / 4 Comments

Last week I made a spur of the moment decision to dine at RDG+Bar Annie, Robert Del Grande’s elegant restaurant in the Galleria section of Houston. I ordered the Restaurant Weeks menu, and for $20 was treated to three courses … All very good, one excellent. I started with a chilled corn soup – the excellent course – and proceeded to a nearly perfect hanger steak and frites, closing with a chocolate brioche bread pudding. The soup was creamy, fresh roasted corn, touch of spiciness imparted by a dollop of smoked chile, garnished with cotija. I drank a 2011 Jean-Louis Chave Côtes du Rhône ‘Mon Couer’ and am now ordering a case of this beautiful wine.

A lovely touch I encountered in the restaurant … Actually, two lovely touches: a framed handwritten letter from Julia Child to Chef Robert Del Grande hangs on the wall, and when the hostess (I later found it that it was Mimi Del Grande I was talking to) saw the book I was reading, a volume of Johnny Apple‘s NY Times dispatches, she told me that he and his wife, Betsey, were frequent guests . She added that his business card was still in her wallet, and produced it for me. I like how food and passion connects us.

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Dining on rabbit and lamb with Chris Stanton

August 23, 2013 / / 3 Comments

I’m in Houston, and I’m eating a lot, immersing myself into this sprawling city’s culinary offerings. Angela and I have dined at several places recently, and I have been solo at some others. With one exception – Triniti – the food has been good, some of it very good, including an excellent snapper at Reef and some wonderful Thai (including a soft shell crab) in the waterside town of Seabrook, south of Houston toward Galveston. Angela especially loved her scallop and shrimp curry there, and the evening ended up at the bar with two of the town’s finest, one of who gave us his recommendations, which included a sushi place in Houston.

Yesterday for lunch I had tacos at Tacos A Go-Go … pork and chicken guisado (stewed). Perfect bites, long, slow cooking, corn tortillas. All for $4.00. Last night Chris Stanton, a friend and former colleague of mine from the Abu Dhabi and Dubai days, and I shared a table at Provisions, and the meal began with Bone Marrow Brioche/Tomato Jam/sheep’s cheese, followed by Ham O’ Day (a prosciutto from America’s Midwest).

Provisions' Ham 'O Day

Provisions’ Ham ‘O Day

I would have liked more marrow and marrow taste in the bread pairing, an opinion that Chris shared, and the tomato jam was a tad too sweet, but the cheese was excellent – a bit crumbly, soft mouth feel, slightly creamy yet pungent. The ham, which came atop a light mustard sauce, imparted a salty taste at the back of the palate, which at first Chris and I did not like. But then a funkiness set in, and that made us hunger for more. We agreed that the curing was carried out well, and we were happy.

We were drinking a 2008 Bodegas Aster Crianza, and the ham’s funkiness enhanced its taste. At $32 a bottle it is one of the least expensive wines on Provisions’ list, and is a good value.

Sweet (overly sweet) lamb ribs at Provision

Sweet (overly sweet) lamb ribs at Provision

To the lamb. And to Korea, because that’s the first thing my brain thought of when I put one of the ribs in my mouth. They were crisp on the outside, and fairly tender meat was underneath. Unfortunately they were overly sweet. We tasted plum and brown sugar, and I would swear that some molasses was in the mix. We wanted less sugar, richer meat. But that did not stop us from finishing the dish. (We turned our attention to the paté before we finished the ribs, and when we returned to them they had cooled off, which enhanced their taste. They were better close to cold.)

Rabbit paté en croute, fit for a fine Spring

Rabbit paté en croute, fit for a fine Spring

A first bite of the rabbit paté told us that, while excellent, it should never be ordered with the lamb ribs. Pea tendrils graced the top of the rabbit, and a bite of that dish, followed by a taste of the ribs, took us from the freshness of spring to a brisk and smoky autumn evening. Too jarring, too discordant. Both great plates, but if they eloped their romance would never last.

How many people does it take to make pasta?

How many people does it take to make pasta?

Chris prepares pasta, in the Dubai kitchen that Angela and I shared.

Chris prepares pasta, in the Dubai kitchen that Angela and I shared.

Chris and I shared an apartment in Abu Dhabi in 2008, and when I first met him I considered myself very fortunate, because he loves food, and he loves to cook. And he is a good cook, intuitive. We teamed up well in our kitchen, and produced some great plates together, including a salmon tartare cone (thank you, Thomas Keller) and, with the help of his parents, a wonderful Thanksgiving dinner for 14.

During our dinner at Provisions Chris asked me as we were eating the ham how much I knew about curing meat, and told me that a visit to the Staten Island home of a friend of his father’s marked the beginning of his passion for food. Chris was 8, and they made fresh pasta and sliced some homemade prosciutto and drank some wine made by a grandfather from Italy. Chris showed me a photo of the salumeria in that Staten Island home, and I share it with you. (Please notice the crucifix at the upper left of this photo. It is indeed blessed meat.)

Meat cures on Staten Island. (Photo courtesy of Chris Stanton)

Meat cures on Staten Island. (Photo courtesy of Chris Stanton)

I replied that I knew a lot about the process of aging and curing, but other than dry-aging a steak I have never had the opportunity nor time to do it. That is going to change, however, and Chris and I are making plans to create a salumeria of our own, so stay tuned.

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