Tag: Grilling

Brockhaus Kicks Off With The First Supper

September 29, 2014 / [email protected] / 1 Comment

Plating salmon tartare

It had been in the making for a while, this dinner event, which was designed to launch Brockhaus, a culinary think tank with its current headquarters in Houston, Texas, and its roots the world over. The menu was developed and discussed a number of times, and once a venue was selected – and it was a perfect place for Brockhaus‘ premiere, a beautiful home owned by gracious people, Jared and Caroline Starry LeBlanc – all systems were go.

The team was in fine form; Chris Stanton an ideal sous, Isaac Johnson the consummate sommelier, and Angela Shah an impeccable hostess and all-around troubleshooter. We began prepping that morning (Saturday, September 27) around 11, starting with an asparagus purée, a chip for the salmon tartare, and corn and jalapeño fritters, and the hours passed agreeably. Chris and I have cooked together many times, as have Angela and I. Isaac, a friend whom I met since moving to Houston, shares my taste in wine, and his front-of-the-house talents are prodigious. He and I worked together seamlessly, and we all kept one another on form. Working with all of them felt just right.

The first guests arrived around 7 p.m., right on time, and we served them a Greek Brut Rosé to accompany the fritters, the beginning of some great pairings.

The First Supper menu

We had designed the evening to include a mingling period, and once all of the guests were there the brut flowed, as did the conversation, everyone assembled in front of the open kitchen. Isaac and I had the schedule under control, and we ushered the guests to the table on time, ready for the meal proper to begin.

As the menu above shows, it began with wild salmon tartare, and closed with pecan semifreddo and walnut cake. In between came scallops and spot prawns and clams, plus duck and rib eye. And more.

It is my observation that many people rush through their meals, not fully enjoying each taste, each bite. Not these guests. We spaced the courses well, and as midnight approached the conversation emanating from the dining room was as lively as it had been at 8 p.m. It pleased me mightily to hear the comments about the food Chris and I cooked, the various tastes of each plate. It pleased me greatly that these individuals sat around a table for nearly five hours and enjoyed the food and wine we served them. Here, one guest’s words:

Dear James and Angela: Thank you for an absolutely fantastic evening. The food was off the charts. We were amazed at the multiple layers of taste in each dish. I know you put a tremendous amount of work into the prep and cooking of the meal … it was apparent in the taste.

We also enjoyed the company of your guests. It was a most engaging evening of conversation. The only thing missing was having the two of you sitting with us during dinner.

Warmest regards,

Russ

Another wrote: Such an exciting night to share with so many great dinner companions. I can’t stop thinking about the incredible menu.

It was an honor to cook for all of them, and we look forward to seeing them again.

Brockhaus is planning its next dinner, and is looking for another great venue. Let us know if you would like to become involved.

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Talking (Wisconsin) Squirrel and Rabbit

September 2, 2014 / [email protected] / 3 Comments

And these two (or creatures similar to them) ended up in a giant cast-iron skillet in Wisconsin.

On Labor Day I spent some time with my friend Mike Pitzen and his family – Krista and Holt – here in Houston. We smoked some briskets and grilled some corn and a skirt steak I had marinated overnight. I made a Bloody Mary or two and we sat outside by the wood and charcoal and talked about food and cooking and family. I had seen a squirrel in the backyard, and suggested that we could use Holt’s toy bow and arrow to shoot it, after which we could grill it. (Holt is a 7-year-old vegetarian, having decided to pursue that route after viewing Charlotte’s Web.) The precocious young man promptly relieved me of the weapon and took it inside.

My plan, however, had aroused a memory from Mike’s culinary past, of a dish his mother cooked whenever a number of rabbits and squirrel had been shot at their Wisconsin home. Mike would skin and gut them, and his mother would portion the animals and brine them overnight in a solution of buttermilk and salt and pepper. The next day she’d cook them in oil or lard in one of her many cast-iron skillets (many of which Mike has today), adding yellow onion slices and apple pieces near the end of the process. A lid would then be placed on the skillet and the steam and heat would turn the meat and the fruit and vegetables into a savory dinner.

They are cute, and they taste good.

They have been known to attack …

Holt had by then returned to our company, fresh from hiding his bow and arrow, so we finished our cooking recollection and turned to politics. That conversation was much less appetizing, and it nourished us not at all.

On a Labor Day grill in Houston.

Two Friends, Two Grills, and Some Great Cooking

July 6, 2014 / [email protected] / 1 Comment

Days of yore …

I have a friend named Mike Pitzen. I have known him for a long time, going on 30 years. He is a good man, and he is funny, with a sense of humor formed by a rural Wisconsin childhood, an education at the University of Wisconsin, and a levelheaded and pragmatic approach to life. We worked together as counselors at Space Camp, took part in a high-speed chase with Officer Wiley Bibb on an interstate highway in Alabama, and, yesterday, we grilled some very fine meat in Houston.

Mike and I in New York on New Year's Eve, partying with Michelle Shocked.

Mike visited me one year in New York, and we hung out with Michelle Shocked on New Year’s Eve.

Mike has lived here for about 13 years now, and when I decided to move to Houston, this past year, one of the things I looked forward to was reuniting with him. I had not seen Mike in a long while, for perhaps eight years or more, and since I’ve been in Texas we have had several long lunches and conversations over beers, and Angela and I have enjoyed getting to know his family, Krista and Holt. I am glad he is here.

I received a call from Mike several days ago during which he told me, “Come over around 4 and we’ll fire up the grills and burn some meat.” Angela and I headed over to their house and upon arriving saw two Weber Kettle grills ready for some proteins. Mike had rubbed a brisket, and it and some ribs were on the smoke. Angela and I brought some jumbo shrimp, and I got busy marinading them, in preparation of wrapping them in bacon and giving them a nice sear. We added a giant sausage link to the mix, and two chickens, one of which we cooked in the beer-can method. Mike rubbed his bird with a mixture of oil and spices, and I put some garlic slivers under the skin of mine and stuffed its cavity with fresh rosemary and a lemon. We talked, drank some beer, kept up with the match between The Netherlands and Costa Rica, and ate some very good meat.

Brisket from Pitzen.

Birds on a grill.

On the table.

Percebes, and We Were Late for Lunch at Asador Etxebarri

May 19, 2014 / [email protected] / 2 Comments

Inside this building an inspired master presides over a fine kitchen.

Food and cooking (and culinary subjects in general) constitute a large part of my reading diet. Magazines, food sections, web sites, books … all are fair game. In a recent issue of The New York Times I came across this piece, about something that was part of a meal that holds a place among my all-time favorite meals: percebes.

Asador Etxebarri was the place, and we were on our way to San Sebastián, having left Barcelona that morning. Colby and Kim were in one car, and Angela and I in another. We were equipped with a GPS unit, so were not worried about making it to our lunch on time. That turned out to be misplaced confidence, because the name of the village in which Asador Etxebarri is similar to another village in the region, and the latter is the one our BMW’s GPS unit selected. We should have insisted on a Mercedes. (Editor’s note: A reliable source insisted that I include the following statement: “And I should have just paid attention to my driving and followed Kim, who was piloting the car ahead. In addition, I should have not argued with Angela when she expressed little faith in my sense of direction.”)

We arrived at the village early and waited on Colby and Kim – our favorite traveling companions – who were on their way to the “right” village. We ordered some wine and sat in the sun in an old square, watching schoolchildren play and dogs chase one another. Colby and Kim never arrived. We called them. They were at the restaurant. We were not. And we were going to be late.

What to do? Well, what we did was walk at a brisk pace to the car while Colby asked if it was possible for our lunch to be delayed, to allow us time to arrive. The manager assented. Kindly. I then attempted to program the village’s name into the GPS system, but it was not cooperating. We called Colby, told him of our dilemma, and he was informed that a young American was staging in Extebarri’s kitchen. The young cook came to the phone and gave directions to Angela, who then relayed them to me.

Traffic was heavy, lots of trucks – we were driving through a semi-industrial area. Hungry, expectant, we drove for about 40 minutes, ending up in a small and beautiful village. The village we thought we were in hours ago. We parked, walked a short distance to the restaurant, and, it turned out, nirvana.

Colby Walton, who was very happy to see us.

Colby and Kim were happy to see us, Colby nursing a … was it a Campari? The dining room, upstairs, was sunny, spare, welcoming. The staff welcomed us, laughing a little.

We joined the punctual ones at our table and I was given the wine list; the waiter was aware of our mishap and intuited that I would want wine. A Txakoli is what I ordered. A bottle, which the four of us drank while we looked at the menu.

A menu for the ages.

For those who know nothing of Asador Etxebarri, I have two words for you: Wood and Smoke. Victor Arguinzoniz is the man behind that pairing, and he uses them both to create beauty. Take a look at the menu shown above and you will see that he grills everything, a method of cooking that imparts flavors of the different varieties of wood his staff collects from the area, including oak and vine cuttings. (He even created a special “cooker” in which he smokes caviar.)

Victor Arguinzoniz and I tour his kitchen.

Victor Arguinzoniz was a gracious host, and I loved his kitchen. (The pulleys behind us are part of his grilling regimen.)

Our meal began, and it was a highlight of our eating tour that trip, which included El Celler de Can Roca, Mugaritz, Akelare, and Arzak, among others. The percebes followed a smoked goat butter, a smoky and creamy opening course that I can taste even today, a few years later. Grilled peas, anchovies, egg followed. And one of the best pieces of beef that man ever cooked. (I asked for the bone, and we took it to the apartment we were renting in San Sebastián; I later trimmed it of all remaining meat and fat and used it in a ragù.) (The photos that follow take you on a brief tour of our tasting menu. Enjoy.)

Colby, Kim, Angela and I spent three or four hours in Asador Etxebarri, and could have spent far more. After our lunch we took a short walk around the restaurant’s environs, admiring the green landscape, the quiet, and gained some insight about how geography and surroundings affect the way one cooks. But we had an appointment in San Sebastián, so once again hit the road and headed to the coast. Much awaited us.