Dara Moskowitz reports in the City Pages that Steve Brown has a new kitchen. She hasn't even eaten at Harry's, Minneapolis' newest gastropub, but feels pretty confident that it can be nothing short of outstanding. Quite frankly, I'll eat at Harry's knowing only that Steve Brown, former chef at now-defunct Levain, is at the stove.
Both of the local newspapers highlight single ingredients from Minnesota's summer bounty. The Star Tribune offers green bean recipes and the Pioneer Press showcases melons.
Also, this Strib article about noteworthy restaurants in small southeastern Minnesota towns is worth filing in your travel folder. I see some road trips in my near future.
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Welcome Home Pizza
Last night Hambone and Spice celebrated Alpha's homecoming after spending twelve days with his grandparents, part of which included driving to Montana from South Dakota. During his three days at 7,000 feet in Big Sky, Alpha tried his hand at fly fishing, did some hiking, and took a daytrip to Yellowstone—lucky, lucky boy.
Astonishingly, he didn't eat any pizza while on his trip. So upon his return, and at his request, we made homemade pizza together—homemade in so far as it was assembled and baked at home. I am not at all ashamed to say that I purchased our raw ingredients from Cossetta's, our favorite Italian deli—all authentic and high quality and utterly delicious. I picked up disks of dough, tubs of rich red sauce, creamy balls of fresh mozzarella, a hank of bulk Italian sausage, and countless other goodies that went directly into my handbag's zippered compartment.
Now, Hambone and Spice have tried our collective hand at pizza from scratch many times, and we have yet to hit upon a dough recipe we like well enough to use regularly. I thought we'd found a serviceable tomato sauce in Lidia's Italian American Kitchen—basically blitzing a can of San Marzanos in a food processor with garlic, olive oil, and salt. But, too often the sauce turns out thin and salty, almost to the point of being briny.
Recalling that Cossetta's had ready-made pizza dough (which, by the way, comes in a plastic bag with enough flour to toss down on your counter), I decided to test it out. The result: two of the best pizzas we've eaten in a very long time.
The boys' pizza was a traditional cheese number, while Hambone and I doctored our crust (pictured above) with Italian sausage, red onion from the farmers market, roasted red peppers, and fresh mozz. Cooked on a pizza stone at 475 degrees for 15 minutes, the crust was crispy outside and tender with air pockets inside, which is an affect we strive for but have never been able to achieve. The sauce was tomatoey and perfectly seasoned.
Swinging by the shop on my way home from work was easy and the results were very satisfying and the price so right—each disk of dough, for example, was $1.59—that I may never again bother making my own dough.
Wednesday, May 02, 2007
Why I Like Wednesdays
Wednesday is a great day to be a foodie. It's the day that the New York Times publishes a food section, Dining Out. And it's the day that Dara Moskowitz's food column appears in the City Pages, the Twin Cities' alternative weekly paper.
Dara, quite simply, rocks. She is a passionate, creative writer, as well as a keen observer, which certainly brings restaurant reviewing to a whole new level.
(Aside: For the record, in these parts, she only has one name. Foodies and fans ask each other, "Have you read Dara yet this week?" Or say things such as, "I wasn't a huge fan of that restaurant, but Dara loved it." However, if you look at her byline, you'll notice she's recently added a name, Grumdahl. So, mazel tov! Dara.)
I haven't always love Dara. At times, I have felt that her cleverness dominates her writing to the extent where the column becomes all about Dara and hardly about the restaurant—or even about food. Also, she can occasionally slather excessive praise on restaurants that neither need it or deserve it, but I've learned to take that with a grain of salt. A few years ago, however, I read a piece that was without pretention, converting me from an occasional read to one who can't go a week without.
My friend Tracy and I always compare restaurant notes, inevitably bringing Dara's opinions into our conversation. Often it serves us well, such as the time we ate at Azia and Dara advocated sticking to the appetizers and innovative cocktails. After eating a misguided fusion curry among other items ordered widely from the menu, we can both attest that we should have heeded her advice.
Clearly, her style has evolved and matured in the 10 years she has been the City Pages' food critic. And, I'm not alone in the Dara love. The James Beard Foundation has nominated her for awards in two separate categories this year.
Courtesy of the internets, even if you don't live in Minneapolis or St. Paul, you can still read Dara's column weekly. Best, if you find yourself hooked, most of her articles since 1997 have been archived.
Dara, quite simply, rocks. She is a passionate, creative writer, as well as a keen observer, which certainly brings restaurant reviewing to a whole new level.
(Aside: For the record, in these parts, she only has one name. Foodies and fans ask each other, "Have you read Dara yet this week?" Or say things such as, "I wasn't a huge fan of that restaurant, but Dara loved it." However, if you look at her byline, you'll notice she's recently added a name, Grumdahl. So, mazel tov! Dara.)
I haven't always love Dara. At times, I have felt that her cleverness dominates her writing to the extent where the column becomes all about Dara and hardly about the restaurant—or even about food. Also, she can occasionally slather excessive praise on restaurants that neither need it or deserve it, but I've learned to take that with a grain of salt. A few years ago, however, I read a piece that was without pretention, converting me from an occasional read to one who can't go a week without.
My friend Tracy and I always compare restaurant notes, inevitably bringing Dara's opinions into our conversation. Often it serves us well, such as the time we ate at Azia and Dara advocated sticking to the appetizers and innovative cocktails. After eating a misguided fusion curry among other items ordered widely from the menu, we can both attest that we should have heeded her advice.
Clearly, her style has evolved and matured in the 10 years she has been the City Pages' food critic. And, I'm not alone in the Dara love. The James Beard Foundation has nominated her for awards in two separate categories this year.
Courtesy of the internets, even if you don't live in Minneapolis or St. Paul, you can still read Dara's column weekly. Best, if you find yourself hooked, most of her articles since 1997 have been archived.
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
City Pages Best of the Twin Cities 07
City Pages, our weekly free newspaper, published their annual best of the Twin Cities list today. Always debatable, always funs. Here is a link to the restaurant list, compiled by Dara Moskowitz. I'd like to comment more when I return from NOLA. Until then, have fun reading. I'd love to know your opinion—feel free to leave comments here.
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
Resolutions 07: Eat Out
La Belle Vie
Generally considered to be the best restaurant between San Francisco and Chicago, La Belle Vie is pretty high on my to-do list. People used to drive from Minneapolis/St. Paul to Stillwater, about 30 miles away, to eat from this French-inspired menu. About a year and a half ago, La Belle Vie moved to Minneapolis and now occupies the grand 510 Groveland, site of the former 510 Restaurant.
Hambone and Spice have been waiting for the right moment to cross the river for our inaugural La Belle Vie meal—even the name of the restaurant sings (especially true if you call to make a reservation and hear the particular lilt with which the voice mail lady says "la belle vie"). And, we seized the moment when Alpha and Beta were on yet another of their whirlwind vacations with Spice's parents.
Good timing, too, as executive chef Tim McKee is a James Beard Award nominee in the category Best Chef Midwest (winner to be announced May 7). So, this was a highly anticipated meal.
We ate in an undeniably gorgeous dining room with high ceilings, ornate crown molding, and the requisite room-enlarging mirrors. Fashionable art punctuates the space between tall windows and French doors. The space was made for prom dates, wedding proposals, and business dinners, but was absolutely hushed on a Sunday night. Naturally, we would be seated next to a loud and obnoxious party of eight. While we've become fans of dining at popular restaurants on off-nights (i.e., not Friday or Saturday), it does come with a price in the midwest—you really miss the ambience that comes from a packed, lively dining room.
You can take a tasting menu with optional wine pairings, which is something we like to do, but nothing on this evening's menu intrigued us, so we went a la carte (not really a hardship).
Here's my meal in pictures:
To Start: chilled yellowtail jack with roasted beets, horseradish and flying fish roe
(The beets and horseradish were great together, but really obscured the vibrancy of the yellowtail jack. My biggest complaint was the temperature, which was beyond just chilled, not quite to frozen.)
Salad: mache and arugula with baccala, soft-poached egg, and salsa verde
(a traditional French bistro salad deconstructed—and with a twist, the salt cod replacing lardons)
Main: pan-roasted moulard duck with foie gras, red cabbage, and Alsatian spices
(I'm not sure what Alsatian spices are, but if I had to guess I'd say caraway. The duck was as tender and juicy as any I've eaten. The foie gras was divine if a little meager, though at it's best when it melted in the duck juices to enrich the sauce. The duck breast and the foie were grown in Minnesota. And, I loved the red cabbage, which was tender with a little crunch so you know the cabbage was transformed from a raw vegetable, and just ever the perfect amount of vinegar.)
Dessert: rice pudding tart, dried pineapple, pineapple sorbet
(For the most part, the tart shell served as a dish for the fine rice pudding. The dried pineapple was the real start, with very concentrated fruit flavors—I could find myself pining [pardon the pun] for it in days to come.)
Wine
Andrew Rich sauvignon blanc, which was selected from an extensive, but severely price marked-up wine list. This white had aromas of grapefruit and strawberry, and was pleasantly honeyed on the palate. We managed to stretch out one bottle over the course of the meal; skipping cocktails helped as did the wine/bourbon/scotch hangover.
Hambone had caramelized foie gras with porcini, sweet potato-chestnut gnocchi and marsala to start (the foie gras was shamefully veiny); warm goat cheese tart with tomato confit and tapenade vinaigrette for his salad course; sautéed arctic char with razor clams, squid ink ravioli, and bibb lettuce as a main.
Petit fours were a wonderful parting gift: coconut curry truffle, homemade marshmallow, frangipane, and pistachio biscotti. I wish I had a photograph of the petit fours plate because they looked like gems.
In all, I think the food was very good, the service was impeccible, and the dining room was gorgeous (if not a little overwrought), making it a complete package for fine dining. Does La Belle Vie deserve the hype? Absolutely not. Is it worth the extravagant price? No way. While I wouldn't hesitate to place it in my top five local restaurants, Hambone and Spice both found it a little pretentious. Would we return? Of course, especially to see the seasonal-food card played.
Generally considered to be the best restaurant between San Francisco and Chicago, La Belle Vie is pretty high on my to-do list. People used to drive from Minneapolis/St. Paul to Stillwater, about 30 miles away, to eat from this French-inspired menu. About a year and a half ago, La Belle Vie moved to Minneapolis and now occupies the grand 510 Groveland, site of the former 510 Restaurant.
Hambone and Spice have been waiting for the right moment to cross the river for our inaugural La Belle Vie meal—even the name of the restaurant sings (especially true if you call to make a reservation and hear the particular lilt with which the voice mail lady says "la belle vie"). And, we seized the moment when Alpha and Beta were on yet another of their whirlwind vacations with Spice's parents.
Good timing, too, as executive chef Tim McKee is a James Beard Award nominee in the category Best Chef Midwest (winner to be announced May 7). So, this was a highly anticipated meal.
We ate in an undeniably gorgeous dining room with high ceilings, ornate crown molding, and the requisite room-enlarging mirrors. Fashionable art punctuates the space between tall windows and French doors. The space was made for prom dates, wedding proposals, and business dinners, but was absolutely hushed on a Sunday night. Naturally, we would be seated next to a loud and obnoxious party of eight. While we've become fans of dining at popular restaurants on off-nights (i.e., not Friday or Saturday), it does come with a price in the midwest—you really miss the ambience that comes from a packed, lively dining room.
You can take a tasting menu with optional wine pairings, which is something we like to do, but nothing on this evening's menu intrigued us, so we went a la carte (not really a hardship).
Here's my meal in pictures:
To Start: chilled yellowtail jack with roasted beets, horseradish and flying fish roe
(The beets and horseradish were great together, but really obscured the vibrancy of the yellowtail jack. My biggest complaint was the temperature, which was beyond just chilled, not quite to frozen.)
Salad: mache and arugula with baccala, soft-poached egg, and salsa verde
(a traditional French bistro salad deconstructed—and with a twist, the salt cod replacing lardons)
Main: pan-roasted moulard duck with foie gras, red cabbage, and Alsatian spices
(I'm not sure what Alsatian spices are, but if I had to guess I'd say caraway. The duck was as tender and juicy as any I've eaten. The foie gras was divine if a little meager, though at it's best when it melted in the duck juices to enrich the sauce. The duck breast and the foie were grown in Minnesota. And, I loved the red cabbage, which was tender with a little crunch so you know the cabbage was transformed from a raw vegetable, and just ever the perfect amount of vinegar.)
Dessert: rice pudding tart, dried pineapple, pineapple sorbet
(For the most part, the tart shell served as a dish for the fine rice pudding. The dried pineapple was the real start, with very concentrated fruit flavors—I could find myself pining [pardon the pun] for it in days to come.)
Wine
Andrew Rich sauvignon blanc, which was selected from an extensive, but severely price marked-up wine list. This white had aromas of grapefruit and strawberry, and was pleasantly honeyed on the palate. We managed to stretch out one bottle over the course of the meal; skipping cocktails helped as did the wine/bourbon/scotch hangover.
Hambone had caramelized foie gras with porcini, sweet potato-chestnut gnocchi and marsala to start (the foie gras was shamefully veiny); warm goat cheese tart with tomato confit and tapenade vinaigrette for his salad course; sautéed arctic char with razor clams, squid ink ravioli, and bibb lettuce as a main.
Petit fours were a wonderful parting gift: coconut curry truffle, homemade marshmallow, frangipane, and pistachio biscotti. I wish I had a photograph of the petit fours plate because they looked like gems.
In all, I think the food was very good, the service was impeccible, and the dining room was gorgeous (if not a little overwrought), making it a complete package for fine dining. Does La Belle Vie deserve the hype? Absolutely not. Is it worth the extravagant price? No way. While I wouldn't hesitate to place it in my top five local restaurants, Hambone and Spice both found it a little pretentious. Would we return? Of course, especially to see the seasonal-food card played.
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Resolutions '07: Shop
Yes, let's get this establishing fact out of the way—I'm the last American with a pulse to visit Trader Joe's.
Both Hambone and Spice knew of the store by reputation as being a great grocery store where food items prepared with a twist, often healthy and organic, and with low prices. We’d heard it described variously as fun, hip, cool, cheap. We know West Coasters who do all their grocery shopping at Trader Joe’s and rave about items, such as the pre-cooked, frozen rice, that makes dinner preparation so much easier. Of course, there’s the Two-Buck Chuck, but we don’t go in for swill. And, we’ve had intentions to visit this emporium of unique foodstuffs since the Twin Cities’ first location opened last year (shortly after New York City received their first Trader Joe’s outpost).
Finally in January, when Spice’s parents were visiting, her father expressed a desire to visit Trader Joe’s. Seizing an opportunity to cross something off her food resolution list, H & S piled the little boys into the car on the coldest day of the year and convoyed with Gpa Ron and Gma Margaret from St. Paul to St. Louis Park, by way of Lakeville (the scenic route).
Located in a chaotic, suburban condo complex, the tiny store was packed on a Saturday with yuppies and grups, almost every one of whom was cranky, owing to the unbearable cold weather or, possibly, the inability to find a parking spot. This location has, seemingly, fewer than 50 spots, which, I’ve read somewhere, is part of the Trader Joe’s experience.
When we finally got our bearings, I realized that we were in snack and prepared food heaven. You can get any manner of wonderful cereals and granola bars, seasoned nuts and chocolate-dipped items, including but not limited to sunflower seeds. You can also find frozen meals in bulk—lobster ravioli and other exotic pastas to name a few. But where is the life-sustaining, rejuvenating real food? The stuff that has naturally occuring fiber and built-in vitamins and protein? Nowhere to be seen.
The produce section was shameful. The meager selection of fruits and vegetables looked pathetic or were suffocating in plastic bags. No meat, fish, or deli counters exist. How do people do all their grocery shopping here? More to the point—who are the people who have the time or energy to do two-stop shopping?
I get the fuss about Trader Joe’s, especially if one’s diet is restricted to prepared foods or snacks. And, how can you deny the pick-up-able nature of Joe’s packaging and their zesty marketing. Hambone made me promise that I wouldn’t insist we trek across the city to visit the store again. He might change his mind, though, after he tries the milk chocolate-dipped banana chips. The chocolate-covered pretzels were tasty enough (though not as good as Nestle’s), but I can’t stop eating the banana chips and I normally loathe banana chips, picking them out of granola and trail mixes when they deign to appear.
We also purchased chili-lemon pistachios (slightly reminiscent of those we picked up at the Berkeley Farmers Market, but Trader Joe’s version was neither as redolent of chili or lemon nor as fresh), Trader Joe’s signature Thai lime-chili cashews (again, the nuts tasted a little stale under their powder coat), frozen chocolate-dipped bananas, some organic free-trade whole coffee beans (only superficially roasted, yielded a less than full-bodied coffee), and honey-sesame cashews.
While we had fun with our purchases, at the end of the day—because, honestly, who doesn't like high-quality snack food?— I wouldn’t drive twenty-five miles for any of this stuff. For years, we’ve buying authentic Asian snack foods at United Noodles, and nothing Trader Joe’s offers holds a candle to the chaat or the shrimp chips or the frozen potstickers and shumai, to name a few diverse and delicious snacks.
Thursday, March 08, 2007
Doug Flicker gets a new kitchen
As reported in this morning's Star Tribune, Doug Flicker will be the new head chef at Mission American Kitchen, the posh restaurant that took over the Aquavit space in the IDS Center.
Hambone and Spice are huge FOFs—fans of Flicker. Earlier this year, Flicker announced that he would, after almost 10 years in business, close his restaurant Auriga, which I found devastating. H&S were a little late to the Auriga dance, but when we arrived, we couldn't get enough. Some of my recent favorite meals were eaten here, and we looked forward to more of Flicker's innovative cooking featuring high-quality ingredients. I ate my first Kumamoto oysters here, which were a revelation, and had an outstanding pear dessert that serves as a standard-bearer of what a good dessert should be.
Hambone and Spice are huge FOFs—fans of Flicker. Earlier this year, Flicker announced that he would, after almost 10 years in business, close his restaurant Auriga, which I found devastating. H&S were a little late to the Auriga dance, but when we arrived, we couldn't get enough. Some of my recent favorite meals were eaten here, and we looked forward to more of Flicker's innovative cooking featuring high-quality ingredients. I ate my first Kumamoto oysters here, which were a revelation, and had an outstanding pear dessert that serves as a standard-bearer of what a good dessert should be.
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
krispy kreme introduces whole wheat donut
Riddle me this—what is the point of a glazed whole wheat donut? Is it to assuage the guilt of eating ungodly amounts of trans fats in each morsel?
Thursday, February 22, 2007
Chicago issues first foie citation
And the unlucky recipient is Hot Doug’s, the edgy “encased-meat emporium” in Chicago. Certainly Doug Sohn’s reputation precedes him, but he was recently featured in a tantalizing piece on Gourmet’s Diary of a Foodie. In addition to the Foie Gras and Sauternes Duck Sausage with Truffle Sauce Moutarde and Armagnac-Truffle Chicken Mousse— the culprit of the $250 fine—Sohn also serves a three-chili wild boar sausage with chipotle dijonnaise and emmental cheese, a corned beef sausage with a reuben treatment, gyros sausage with creme fraiche tzatziki, and a Catalonian pork sausage with saffron rouille and manchego cheese, to name just a few mouth-watering selections.
For the record, I’m against the foie gras ban for so many reasons, chief among them: we have bigger issues to solve as a society—poverty and child mortality rates and education funding cuts and the war in Iraq to name but a powerful few. Legislators and city councils are wasting energy on the foie gras issue.
I’d like to pay Doug’s fine in exchange for foie gras sausages for all my friends.
For the record, I’m against the foie gras ban for so many reasons, chief among them: we have bigger issues to solve as a society—poverty and child mortality rates and education funding cuts and the war in Iraq to name but a powerful few. Legislators and city councils are wasting energy on the foie gras issue.
I’d like to pay Doug’s fine in exchange for foie gras sausages for all my friends.
Sunday, February 18, 2007
old standby: easy risotto
At the end of the day, I want to put a hearty, warm meal on the table for my little family. And some times that simple goal is easier said than done.
Our day starts early and runs long. Neither Hambone nor I are home before 6 p.m., at which time, Alpha and Beta only want to reconnect by giving us lots of physical attention. So, Monday through Thursday, we’re rarely very ambitious about trying new or involved recipes, which allows us to spend more time with our little darlings.
Over the years, we’ve honed a few meals that we can whip up without referring to recipes. These are nourishing and hearty, usually one-dish, meals that can be put on the table in relatively little time. This past week we made our cheater risotto, which we adapted from a recipe in Bon Appetit over ten years ago. I say “cheater” because, although this dish absolutely looks and tastes like risotto, the method lacks the hot stock and Arborio rice, as well as the constant stirring required by authentic versions.
I do love to tinker over a risotto, and I know that they’re really not that time consuming, so when I want to perch on a stool by the stove with a good book and stir for the better part of an hour, I turn to more time-honored practices. But on weeknights, after working a full day at the office and sitting in rush-hour traffic, I turn to this equally creamy but quicker form—and savor it all the same.
Easy “Risotto”
1 T. butter
1 shallot, minced
1 c. long-grain white rice
1/2 c. dry white wine 1 (14.5 oz.) can broth (I use chicken, but vegetable is good too)
1 T. olive oil
3 links Italian sausage, casings removed
1/2 cup sliced mushrooms
1 tsp fresh thyme leaves
2 garlic cloves, minced
1/2 cup feta cheese
Salt and pepper
Melt 1 tablespoon butter in a heavy medium saucepan over medium heat. Add minced shallot and sauté until soft, about 1 minute. Add rice and stir until coated, about 1 minute. Add wine and boil until liquid is almost absorbed, a few minutes. Then, add broth and bring to a boil. Reduce heat to low and simmer with lid on for 12 minutes. Rice should almost be tender; a little liquid should remain.
While the rice is cooking, prepare the sausage mixture. Heat oil in sauté pan until hot. Add sausage to pan and cook until browned, breaking up pieces as it cooks, about 10 minutes. Add garlic, mushrooms, and thyme. Season with salt and pepper. Cook until mushrooms are soft and browned. Add the sausage mixture and feta cheese to rice. Stir to incorporate and serve.
Note: This recipe is very versatile. The rice part is the basic technique. Shrimp, corn, and tomatoes is an awesome combination. And of course, you can always stir in parmesan cheese and butter to finish. Pictured above is a sausage-corn-zucchini-tomato version.
Thursday, February 15, 2007
Kids in the Kitchen: Flourless Chocolate Cake
Simply put, Alpha and Beta love to hang out in the kitchen.
Our galley kitchen is separated from the dining room by a peninsula with a granite countertop. The kids love to pull up to the eating counter and hang out while we cook dinner. But, when I am baking, they grab their aprons, pull up stools, and roll up their sleeves. They are both well versed in the rhythms of turning dry ingredients into wet ingredients, mixing them gingerly until a batter emerges. Pancakes, cookies, and muffins are well within their abilities.
So recently, when I decided to make a birthday cake for their Uncle Nik, I should have known the boys would want to help. Alpha and I had looked over the cakes at the grocery store earlier in the day and agreed that we could do better at home. We decided to make a recipe from Everyday Food that I’ve done a number of times. It’s a quick, easy flourless cake.
While I melted semisweet chocolate chips and butter in a double boiler on the stove, Alpha studiously separated eggs. I demonstrated how to transfer the yolk between shell halves, allowing the white to fall to the bowl below. Alpha is a quick study and insisted on trying it right away. He declared, “Wow, that’s so cool.” He proceeded to carefully separate four more eggs, beating them with a whisk before adding the cooled chocolate/butter mixture.
Meanwhile, Beta held the hand mixer and beat the egg whites to soft peak. Then he dumped in the sugar, and we continued beating until the egg whites were glossy. Alpha, who assured me he had folded ingredients before, set about incorporating the whole mess. While his folding technique desires refinement, he did manage to thoroughly blend the whites and chocolate.
Then, because their collective attention span is as big as a gnat, I poured the batter into a springboard pan and tended the oven, checking for doneness every five minutes after the allotted baking time. Needless to say, the boys enjoyed eating their cake as much as they enjoyed making it.
Flourless Chocolate Cake
Everyday Food (January/February 2004)
6 tablespoons unsalted butter, plus more for pan
1-1/2 cups semisweet chocolate chips (or 8 ounces chopped bittersweet chocolate)
6 large egg yolks
6 large egg whites
1/2 cup granulated sugar
confectioners' sugar, for dusting
1. Preheat oven to 275 degrees F, with rack in center. Butter a 9-inch springform pan. Place butter and chocolate in a large bowl. Microwave in 30-second increments, stirring each time, until melted; cool slightly. Whisk in yolks.
2. In another bowl, beat egg whites to soft peaks. Gradually add sugar; beat until stiff and glossy. Whisk 1/4 whites into chocolate mixture; gently fold mixture into remaining whites.
3. Pour into prepared pan; smooth top. Bake until cake pulls away from sides of pan and is just set in center, 45 to 50 minutes. Cool completely on a wire rack. Serve dusted with confectioners' sugar.
Our galley kitchen is separated from the dining room by a peninsula with a granite countertop. The kids love to pull up to the eating counter and hang out while we cook dinner. But, when I am baking, they grab their aprons, pull up stools, and roll up their sleeves. They are both well versed in the rhythms of turning dry ingredients into wet ingredients, mixing them gingerly until a batter emerges. Pancakes, cookies, and muffins are well within their abilities.
So recently, when I decided to make a birthday cake for their Uncle Nik, I should have known the boys would want to help. Alpha and I had looked over the cakes at the grocery store earlier in the day and agreed that we could do better at home. We decided to make a recipe from Everyday Food that I’ve done a number of times. It’s a quick, easy flourless cake.
While I melted semisweet chocolate chips and butter in a double boiler on the stove, Alpha studiously separated eggs. I demonstrated how to transfer the yolk between shell halves, allowing the white to fall to the bowl below. Alpha is a quick study and insisted on trying it right away. He declared, “Wow, that’s so cool.” He proceeded to carefully separate four more eggs, beating them with a whisk before adding the cooled chocolate/butter mixture.
Meanwhile, Beta held the hand mixer and beat the egg whites to soft peak. Then he dumped in the sugar, and we continued beating until the egg whites were glossy. Alpha, who assured me he had folded ingredients before, set about incorporating the whole mess. While his folding technique desires refinement, he did manage to thoroughly blend the whites and chocolate.
Then, because their collective attention span is as big as a gnat, I poured the batter into a springboard pan and tended the oven, checking for doneness every five minutes after the allotted baking time. Needless to say, the boys enjoyed eating their cake as much as they enjoyed making it.
Flourless Chocolate Cake
Everyday Food (January/February 2004)
6 tablespoons unsalted butter, plus more for pan
1-1/2 cups semisweet chocolate chips (or 8 ounces chopped bittersweet chocolate)
6 large egg yolks
6 large egg whites
1/2 cup granulated sugar
confectioners' sugar, for dusting
1. Preheat oven to 275 degrees F, with rack in center. Butter a 9-inch springform pan. Place butter and chocolate in a large bowl. Microwave in 30-second increments, stirring each time, until melted; cool slightly. Whisk in yolks.
2. In another bowl, beat egg whites to soft peaks. Gradually add sugar; beat until stiff and glossy. Whisk 1/4 whites into chocolate mixture; gently fold mixture into remaining whites.
3. Pour into prepared pan; smooth top. Bake until cake pulls away from sides of pan and is just set in center, 45 to 50 minutes. Cool completely on a wire rack. Serve dusted with confectioners' sugar.
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
2007 Food Resolutions
1. Shop
~Midtown Global Market, an indoor farmers market with myriad multicultural restaurants, opened to great fanfare, but early this year, the Star Tribune reported that many vendors aren’t turning a profit.
~Mill City Farmers Market
~E’s Cheese in Mendota Heights, Premier Cheese Shop in Edina
~Clancey’s Market for Greg Westersteen’s house-made sausages; Broder’s for Armandino Batali’s salumi
~Trader Joe’s, the metro’s first opened last summer, but we’re still Trader Joe’s virgins
2. Eat out
~La Belle Vie—generally considered to be the best restaurant in the metro area
~Peninsula—Malaysian curries
~Town Talk Diner—upscale blue-plate specials (Moskowitz rave, so does foodie friend Tracy A.)
~Craftsman—posh American, just over the river from where we live
~Heartland—posh American, specializing in game and regional specialties, just up the hill from where we live
~Cue—Lenny Russo’s (Heartland) new restaurant in the new Guthrie Theater
~Spoonriver—Brenda Langdon’s (Café Brenda) new restaurant
~Cordon Bleu cooking school restaurant
~Alinea (Chicago)
~Zuni Café (San Francisco)
~Chez Panisse (Berkeley)
~French Laundry (Yountsville, CA)
3. Eat in
Cook from each of the cookbooks we own, especially the following:
~Sunday Suppers at Lucques (Suzanne Goin)
~A Tale of 12 Kitchens (Jake Tilson)
~Kitchen Diaries (Nigel Slater)
~Cooking of Southwest France (Paula Wolfert)
~Silver Spoon
~Hot, Sour, Salty, Sweet (Jeffrey Alford and Naomi Duguid)
~The French Laundry Cookbook (Thomas Keller)
~The St. Paul Farmers Market Cookbook
4. Make at home
~use the gadgets/appliances (pasta attachment on KitchenAid, raclette maker with crepe griddle, rice cooker, fondue pot)
~gnocchi
~spaetzle
~poached eggs
~five master sauces (béchamel, veloute, espagnole, hollandaise, tomato)
~duck confit
~cassoulet
~souffle
~Paula Wolfert’s panade
~Judy Rodgers’s roasted chicken
~Midtown Global Market, an indoor farmers market with myriad multicultural restaurants, opened to great fanfare, but early this year, the Star Tribune reported that many vendors aren’t turning a profit.
~Mill City Farmers Market
~E’s Cheese in Mendota Heights, Premier Cheese Shop in Edina
~Clancey’s Market for Greg Westersteen’s house-made sausages; Broder’s for Armandino Batali’s salumi
~Trader Joe’s, the metro’s first opened last summer, but we’re still Trader Joe’s virgins
2. Eat out
~La Belle Vie—generally considered to be the best restaurant in the metro area
~Peninsula—Malaysian curries
~Town Talk Diner—upscale blue-plate specials (Moskowitz rave, so does foodie friend Tracy A.)
~Craftsman—posh American, just over the river from where we live
~Heartland—posh American, specializing in game and regional specialties, just up the hill from where we live
~Cue—Lenny Russo’s (Heartland) new restaurant in the new Guthrie Theater
~Spoonriver—Brenda Langdon’s (Café Brenda) new restaurant
~Cordon Bleu cooking school restaurant
~Alinea (Chicago)
~Zuni Café (San Francisco)
~Chez Panisse (Berkeley)
~French Laundry (Yountsville, CA)
3. Eat in
Cook from each of the cookbooks we own, especially the following:
~Sunday Suppers at Lucques (Suzanne Goin)
~A Tale of 12 Kitchens (Jake Tilson)
~Kitchen Diaries (Nigel Slater)
~Cooking of Southwest France (Paula Wolfert)
~Silver Spoon
~Hot, Sour, Salty, Sweet (Jeffrey Alford and Naomi Duguid)
~The French Laundry Cookbook (Thomas Keller)
~The St. Paul Farmers Market Cookbook
4. Make at home
~use the gadgets/appliances (pasta attachment on KitchenAid, raclette maker with crepe griddle, rice cooker, fondue pot)
~gnocchi
~spaetzle
~poached eggs
~five master sauces (béchamel, veloute, espagnole, hollandaise, tomato)
~duck confit
~cassoulet
~souffle
~Paula Wolfert’s panade
~Judy Rodgers’s roasted chicken
Sunday, January 21, 2007
2006 in review, part 2
It’s been quiet here at Hambone and Spice, a little bit because Spice is having a hard time letting go of 2006, but also because we’ve been busy cooking and eating and drinking wine. We’ll get to those details in due course, but first, I need to get off my chest all the blogging I failed to do last year. Forthwith, some cooking, eating, and drinking highlights from 2006:
~drinks
mastered a mean margarita with fresh-squeezed lime juice, tequila, triple sec—shaken, not blended. I ask you Who needs mixes?
~grilling
burgers—Hambone makes the best burgers and they’re especially good grilled
Syrian kabobs—ground beef with cinnamon, cumin, allspice, and cloves
pork tenderloins and whole chickens thrown on the grill to capture the residual heat after we’ve grilled dinner
calzones—the grill is about as close to a pizza oven as you’ll ever get at home, so calzones done this way have a crispy exterior and a chewy interior, plus the filling is ooey and hot. When done build-your-own style, these have the double advantage of being fun for the kids and easy to serve vegetarian friends.
sausages—sausage (teriyaki chicken with pineapple was my favorite among many) and mustard fest with the Harrisons
~sauces
chimichurri—Deborah Madison’s recipe, with parsley or cilantro and parsley and cilantro
romesco—New York Times’ majorly labor intensive version, enough to feed an army
sage-walnut pesto—to top pumpkin ravioli or butternut squash gnocchi—or eat straight from spoon
~guacamole
I made guacamole so often in 2006, I’m pretty sure I can make it blindfolded. Sure, it’s great with chips, but it’s awesome on burgers
~bechamel
Again, I made this white sauce so many times in 2006, that I’m pretty sure I can make it blindfolded, adding cheese for “Thomas Jefferson” (as the kids call it) mac and cheese, cauliflower gratin, croque monsieur, or croquetas.
~deep frying
croquetas—béchamel with Serrano ham, green onions, and manchego cheese; chilled; dipped first in beaten egg, then in panko; fried. Crispy and creamy perfection.
~chopped salads
oranges, blue cheese, pine nuts
dates, apple, manchego, caramelized walnuts
pears, crisped prosciutto, toasted pecans
cantaloupe, prosciutto, sherry and smoked paprika vinaigrette
hard-boiled eggs, avocado, cherry tomatoes
~foie gras
ate a lifetime’s supply while in France
~typical Costa Rican breakfast
rice, beans, eggs, farmer’s cheese
~wine
Gruner Veltliner (drank my first)
vino verdhe (slightly effervescent “green” wine from Portugal)
malbec (drank our way through all the Argentinean vineyards we could)
pinot noir (fell in love with Claudia Springs pinot noir, small Mendocino County vineyard)
Ascheri Barolo, 1996 (Hambone’s birthday bottle, which we probably opened too soon)
Heitz Cellars Martha’s Vineyard, 1970 (one of the California wines put up against French wines in the historic 1976 Paris tasting)
~cookbooks
New Spanish Table by Anya von Bremzen—croquetas and other tapas
Sunday Suppers at Lucques by Suzanne Goin—fig tart
Cooking of Southwestern France by Paula Wolfert—squash soup with crisped ham
Indian Home Cooking by Suvir Saran—lamb biriyani with orange and whole garam masala
Zuni Café by Judy Rodgers—cauliflower pasta with capers, anchovies, and garlic
Appetite by Nigel Slater—an extremely versatile fish soup
~drinks
mastered a mean margarita with fresh-squeezed lime juice, tequila, triple sec—shaken, not blended. I ask you Who needs mixes?
~grilling
burgers—Hambone makes the best burgers and they’re especially good grilled
Syrian kabobs—ground beef with cinnamon, cumin, allspice, and cloves
pork tenderloins and whole chickens thrown on the grill to capture the residual heat after we’ve grilled dinner
calzones—the grill is about as close to a pizza oven as you’ll ever get at home, so calzones done this way have a crispy exterior and a chewy interior, plus the filling is ooey and hot. When done build-your-own style, these have the double advantage of being fun for the kids and easy to serve vegetarian friends.
sausages—sausage (teriyaki chicken with pineapple was my favorite among many) and mustard fest with the Harrisons
~sauces
chimichurri—Deborah Madison’s recipe, with parsley or cilantro and parsley and cilantro
romesco—New York Times’ majorly labor intensive version, enough to feed an army
sage-walnut pesto—to top pumpkin ravioli or butternut squash gnocchi—or eat straight from spoon
~guacamole
I made guacamole so often in 2006, I’m pretty sure I can make it blindfolded. Sure, it’s great with chips, but it’s awesome on burgers
~bechamel
Again, I made this white sauce so many times in 2006, that I’m pretty sure I can make it blindfolded, adding cheese for “Thomas Jefferson” (as the kids call it) mac and cheese, cauliflower gratin, croque monsieur, or croquetas.
~deep frying
croquetas—béchamel with Serrano ham, green onions, and manchego cheese; chilled; dipped first in beaten egg, then in panko; fried. Crispy and creamy perfection.
~chopped salads
oranges, blue cheese, pine nuts
dates, apple, manchego, caramelized walnuts
pears, crisped prosciutto, toasted pecans
cantaloupe, prosciutto, sherry and smoked paprika vinaigrette
hard-boiled eggs, avocado, cherry tomatoes
~foie gras
ate a lifetime’s supply while in France
~typical Costa Rican breakfast
rice, beans, eggs, farmer’s cheese
~wine
Gruner Veltliner (drank my first)
vino verdhe (slightly effervescent “green” wine from Portugal)
malbec (drank our way through all the Argentinean vineyards we could)
pinot noir (fell in love with Claudia Springs pinot noir, small Mendocino County vineyard)
Ascheri Barolo, 1996 (Hambone’s birthday bottle, which we probably opened too soon)
Heitz Cellars Martha’s Vineyard, 1970 (one of the California wines put up against French wines in the historic 1976 Paris tasting)
~cookbooks
New Spanish Table by Anya von Bremzen—croquetas and other tapas
Sunday Suppers at Lucques by Suzanne Goin—fig tart
Cooking of Southwestern France by Paula Wolfert—squash soup with crisped ham
Indian Home Cooking by Suvir Saran—lamb biriyani with orange and whole garam masala
Zuni Café by Judy Rodgers—cauliflower pasta with capers, anchovies, and garlic
Appetite by Nigel Slater—an extremely versatile fish soup
Friday, January 19, 2007
Speakers good enough to drink
Stereo speakers have never looked—or sounded—as sexy and smooth as when they have been crafted from old whiskey barrels. According to the folks at Pioneer, malt mellows sound. These speakers are made using oak has been snuggling up to the golden liquid for fifty years.
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
Alpha and Beta's Adventures in Eating
Early in the summer, in anticipation of our family trip to France, we inaugurated the Adventures in Eating series for our kids, then age four and six. The goal was to get them to try more foods, especially foods that they may never have eaten before, in a setting where they need to use their manners and sit at the table.
Here’s a recap of Alpha and Beta’s Adventures in Eating:
Greek: It’s Greek to Me
Our first meal out was an enormous success. The boys loved pita, of course, as well as souvlaki and calamari, but were a little freaked out by the flaming saganaki.
French: Margaux
With his head on the table, Beta slept through the meal, which, unexpectedly, proved to be training for France, where he slept through almost every meal. Alpha discovered his love for steak frites.
Spanish: La Bodega
The tapas were very expensive and entirely mediocre, but, knowing we could do better, Hambone and Spice were inspired to throw a tapas party to celebrate the summer solstice. We ate croquetas (potato and cheese), calamari, albondigas, pincho de pollo (grilled chicken), tortilla de patata, Russian salad (peas, eggs, tuna, homemade mayonnaise, black olives), white asparagus (marinated), and flan. H&S loved the sangria!
Vietnamese: Mai Village
Disaster. The kids wouldn’t even touch the egg rolls. Never let a bridge over a koi pond trick you into thinking the restaurant will be fun for the kids.
Japanese: Saji-Ya
An outstanding sushi meal with Beta, at which he devoured the fried shrimp heads from our ama ebi.
Indian: Tandoor
Beta discovered Indian chicken nuggets (chicken anointed in chickpea or lentil batter and fried) and chutneys (his favorite was the date variety). Tandoori chicken and naan went down well after much encouragement.
Chinese: Yummy
This meal marked significant milestones for both boys. We ate dim sum at this restaurant a year ago at Christmas at which time we couldn’t get the kids to try anything—not dumplings, not shrimp, not even egg rolls. Finally, one of the dim-sum ladies brought the boys special plates of Chinese hotdogs (hotdogs wrapped with a sweet bun), which were quickly devoured. Needless to say, when Hambone and I proposed dim sum for a special end-of-year meal, we reminded the boys of the awesome Chinese hotdogs. We even invited friends to join us—friends whose kids are picky eaters—and lured them with the promise of Chinese hotdogs. Guess what? Yummy no longer serves the Chinese hotdogs. The children were forced to eat dim sum—and they embraced the moment, especially Beta, who reveled in pointing at little treasures on the cart, which were unflinchingly handed over to him.
We ordered a lot of food that day—all good: pork shumei, sticky rice with Chinese sausage in lotus leaf, squid curry sauce, chive dumplings, chicken with basil, Chinese broccoli (I love this, so green and fresh), salt and pepper shrimp (Beta was naturally drawn to these perfectly seasoned prawns avec tetes), pan-fried turnip cake (I didn’t love the turnip cake), mixed pork dumpling (fried and crispy), pot sticker, tofu dumplings, fried tofu and shrimp, shrimp dumplings, pork and watercress dumplings, pork buns, and bean-paste-filled buns (another of Beta’s favs).
The boys truly grew as eaters this year, and Hambone and Spice are so proud of them. In the new year, Alpha and I share the goal of finding the best French fries in town (Margaux's were very good, better than many we ate in France, in fact). We will most certainly eat dim sum again. Maybe we’ll even take out a second mortgage and treat the boys to the spectacular tapas at Solera. I’d even like to try Vietnamese again. And, while I don’t think we’re quite ready for Ethiopian, we could take them out for Italian, Mexican, Thai, and more French and Italian and dim sum.
Here’s a recap of Alpha and Beta’s Adventures in Eating:
Greek: It’s Greek to Me
Our first meal out was an enormous success. The boys loved pita, of course, as well as souvlaki and calamari, but were a little freaked out by the flaming saganaki.
French: Margaux
With his head on the table, Beta slept through the meal, which, unexpectedly, proved to be training for France, where he slept through almost every meal. Alpha discovered his love for steak frites.
Spanish: La Bodega
The tapas were very expensive and entirely mediocre, but, knowing we could do better, Hambone and Spice were inspired to throw a tapas party to celebrate the summer solstice. We ate croquetas (potato and cheese), calamari, albondigas, pincho de pollo (grilled chicken), tortilla de patata, Russian salad (peas, eggs, tuna, homemade mayonnaise, black olives), white asparagus (marinated), and flan. H&S loved the sangria!
Vietnamese: Mai Village
Disaster. The kids wouldn’t even touch the egg rolls. Never let a bridge over a koi pond trick you into thinking the restaurant will be fun for the kids.
Japanese: Saji-Ya
An outstanding sushi meal with Beta, at which he devoured the fried shrimp heads from our ama ebi.
Indian: Tandoor
Beta discovered Indian chicken nuggets (chicken anointed in chickpea or lentil batter and fried) and chutneys (his favorite was the date variety). Tandoori chicken and naan went down well after much encouragement.
Chinese: Yummy
This meal marked significant milestones for both boys. We ate dim sum at this restaurant a year ago at Christmas at which time we couldn’t get the kids to try anything—not dumplings, not shrimp, not even egg rolls. Finally, one of the dim-sum ladies brought the boys special plates of Chinese hotdogs (hotdogs wrapped with a sweet bun), which were quickly devoured. Needless to say, when Hambone and I proposed dim sum for a special end-of-year meal, we reminded the boys of the awesome Chinese hotdogs. We even invited friends to join us—friends whose kids are picky eaters—and lured them with the promise of Chinese hotdogs. Guess what? Yummy no longer serves the Chinese hotdogs. The children were forced to eat dim sum—and they embraced the moment, especially Beta, who reveled in pointing at little treasures on the cart, which were unflinchingly handed over to him.
We ordered a lot of food that day—all good: pork shumei, sticky rice with Chinese sausage in lotus leaf, squid curry sauce, chive dumplings, chicken with basil, Chinese broccoli (I love this, so green and fresh), salt and pepper shrimp (Beta was naturally drawn to these perfectly seasoned prawns avec tetes), pan-fried turnip cake (I didn’t love the turnip cake), mixed pork dumpling (fried and crispy), pot sticker, tofu dumplings, fried tofu and shrimp, shrimp dumplings, pork and watercress dumplings, pork buns, and bean-paste-filled buns (another of Beta’s favs).
The boys truly grew as eaters this year, and Hambone and Spice are so proud of them. In the new year, Alpha and I share the goal of finding the best French fries in town (Margaux's were very good, better than many we ate in France, in fact). We will most certainly eat dim sum again. Maybe we’ll even take out a second mortgage and treat the boys to the spectacular tapas at Solera. I’d even like to try Vietnamese again. And, while I don’t think we’re quite ready for Ethiopian, we could take them out for Italian, Mexican, Thai, and more French and Italian and dim sum.
Sunday, January 07, 2007
2006, food in review
Hambone and Spice ate so well in 2006. We enjoyed many fantastic and memorable meals near and far from home—at a resort while on vacation in Costa Rica, in restaurants while on vacation in France (in both Paris and Reims), in restaurants on our home turf, and, most important, in our own home.
Here’s a recap of some of our great restaurant meals in Minneapolis-St. Paul (previously unmentioned in the blog):
Restaurant Alma (with Dorothy and David, January)
Hands down, Alma is one of my favorite Minneapolis restaurants, so it was a pleasure to take Hambone’s mother and her husband here when they visited us in January. The food is unpretentious, but innovative—a delicate balance to strike.
To start: duck confit with onions on mixed greens
Pasta: light, fluffy ricotta gnocchi in a fennel sauce with capers and brown butter
Main: pheasant with rosemary pain perdu, savoy cabbage with bacon and apple
Dessert: oatmeal stout gingerbread
A Rebours (with the Harrisons, January)
This is, quite possibly, the only charming St. Paul restaurant, decked with dark wood banquettes and mirrors, in the historic Hamm building. A Rebours (French for "against the grain") is an off-shoot of the now-defunct Bakery on Grand.
To start: mixed greens with toasted hazelnuts and blue cheese
Main: cassoulet replete with duck confit, pork belly, and beans, which were a little on the crunchy side
Dessert: skipped, which is something I never do, as a rule
Anemonie (February)
This sushi and oyster bar is adjacent to Azia, a fusion Asian place that had its fifteen minutes in 2005. H&S ate here not long after Anemonie opened, and, much to our surprise (given the popularity of Azia) and dismay, the restaurant was empty. The sushi was pretty mediocre and very overpriced.
To start: baked green mussels
Nigiri: bachimaguro (big-eye tuna), hamachi, aji, unagi, salmon
Rolls: crunch roll (tempura-coated California roll), spicy yellowtail (mayo bound), mountain roll (shiso, yam, tuna)
Ristorante Luci (March)
I can’t remember the last time we ate here, but friends who had eaten at Luci recently reminded us of this wonderful neighborhood place. Years ago we got off to a rocky start with Luci, but she almost always gives us a solid meal.
To start: prosciutto di casa (soft, creamy, salty house-cured pork loin served with mixed greens)
And: chunky, peasant-style split pea soup with tomato and taleggio
Pasta: lasagne di zuccha (paper-thin fresh pasta with butternut squash and sweet gorgonzola cream)
Main: perfectly cooked lamb t-bone chops with potatoes and green olives
Wine: Avignonesi Montepulciano ’02
Auriga (with Jack and Bev, May)
Hambone and Spice had an outstanding meal at Auriga for Spice’s birthday in October 2005, and we were pleased to share the spot with Hambone’s father and his wife on their annual visit.
Start: Catalan stew (mussels, shrimp, fish, saffron, smoked paprika, carrots, celery, and almonds)
Main: New Zealand venison (with baby artichoke hearts, raisin reduction, and risotto)
Dessert: mocha mousse cake (12 amazing layers of thinly sliced cake, a slab of chocolate, chocolate sauce, coffee gelato, cappuccino foam, and chocolate crunch)
Wine: David Bruce petite syrah ’04
Five (October)
We were under the impression that Stewart Woodman was doing some molecular gastronomy at Five, but were faced with a straightforward menu when we ate here for Spice’s birthday celebration. The food was incredible so we weren’t disappointed, and the location (the former Fifth Precinct station) was a treat. I’m glad we had an opportunity to eat here before Woodman bowed out in December.
Start: duck breast (sliced and plated over duck confit, which sat on top of a creamy, tangy celery root slaw, yuzu soy butter)
Main: lamb loin in yogurt-cilantro sauce on orange-scented jasmine rice (“Bhopal style,” essentially a refined, but deconstructed, Indian curry, which is to say the lamb was sliced and placed on spinach, which was draped over the rice, with a moat of sauce)
Dessert: lemon crème brulee with pink peppercorns, lemon shortbread-like cookies (one of the most unusual and refreshing desserts of the year)
To end: Housemade mini donuts, an homage to the building’s original purpose, came with coffee
Restaurant discovery of the year: 112 Eatery
Chef-owned 112 Eatery is one of the most difficult reservations in town. Booking six to eight weeks out, Hambone and Spice made a decision, based on our first fantastic meal there, to do just that. We now have a standing reservation every six to eight weeks. Every meal has been a delight—from the marinated olives and sweet-spicy almonds that serve as nibbles while perusing the menu to the cardamom popcorn that comes with the check and everything in between. Hambone and Spice love the space (it reminds them of NYC neighborhood joints), and they love what chef Isaac Becker is doing in the kitchen—nothing short of totally innovative, approachable fare. While it's no surprise that the City Pages crowned this the best new restaurant 2006, Food and Wine loves 112 Eatery too, selecting the lamb scottadito (chops with goats milk yogurt) as a “best restaurant dish of 2006.” And, 112 Eatery has a well-edited wine list with something interesting for every budget.
July
Start: duck and radicchio salad (a true revelation with miso dressing, scallion, sliced eggs, and fresh bread crumbs)
Main: swordfish with harissa, coriander, turmeric, and shaved fennel with tiny, handmade pasta)
Dessert: chocolate pot de crème
Wine: Novellum Languedoc chardonnay (’04) and the Anton Bauer "gmork" gruner veltliner
September (Steve and Lisa)
Start: duck and radicchio salad (again, because I am going to try to make this at home)
Sides: gnocchi (pan-fried, ethereal, I can’t stop thinking about this dish)
Main: Berkshire pork tenderloin and golden chanterelle hash (very, very good)
Dessert: chocolate pot de crème (again)
Wine: Robert Picota ’03 syrah and Mark West pinot ’05
October (Steve and Lisa)
Start: stringozzi with lamb sugo (a handmade pasta with a rich lamb sauce)
Sides: cauliflower fritters, braised escarole (meltingly good)
Main: barrimundi with avocado butter (and corn, beets, couscous)
Wine: Marquis Philips cab ’05 (Australia) and Chateau d’Oupia (minervois) ’04 [sheepy]
Dessert: banana tart (surprising), tres leche cake (best dessert of the year), pot de crème
It will be very difficult to top the restaurant meals in 2006, so we may not even try (wink, wink).
Here’s a recap of some of our great restaurant meals in Minneapolis-St. Paul (previously unmentioned in the blog):
Restaurant Alma (with Dorothy and David, January)
Hands down, Alma is one of my favorite Minneapolis restaurants, so it was a pleasure to take Hambone’s mother and her husband here when they visited us in January. The food is unpretentious, but innovative—a delicate balance to strike.
To start: duck confit with onions on mixed greens
Pasta: light, fluffy ricotta gnocchi in a fennel sauce with capers and brown butter
Main: pheasant with rosemary pain perdu, savoy cabbage with bacon and apple
Dessert: oatmeal stout gingerbread
A Rebours (with the Harrisons, January)
This is, quite possibly, the only charming St. Paul restaurant, decked with dark wood banquettes and mirrors, in the historic Hamm building. A Rebours (French for "against the grain") is an off-shoot of the now-defunct Bakery on Grand.
To start: mixed greens with toasted hazelnuts and blue cheese
Main: cassoulet replete with duck confit, pork belly, and beans, which were a little on the crunchy side
Dessert: skipped, which is something I never do, as a rule
Anemonie (February)
This sushi and oyster bar is adjacent to Azia, a fusion Asian place that had its fifteen minutes in 2005. H&S ate here not long after Anemonie opened, and, much to our surprise (given the popularity of Azia) and dismay, the restaurant was empty. The sushi was pretty mediocre and very overpriced.
To start: baked green mussels
Nigiri: bachimaguro (big-eye tuna), hamachi, aji, unagi, salmon
Rolls: crunch roll (tempura-coated California roll), spicy yellowtail (mayo bound), mountain roll (shiso, yam, tuna)
Ristorante Luci (March)
I can’t remember the last time we ate here, but friends who had eaten at Luci recently reminded us of this wonderful neighborhood place. Years ago we got off to a rocky start with Luci, but she almost always gives us a solid meal.
To start: prosciutto di casa (soft, creamy, salty house-cured pork loin served with mixed greens)
And: chunky, peasant-style split pea soup with tomato and taleggio
Pasta: lasagne di zuccha (paper-thin fresh pasta with butternut squash and sweet gorgonzola cream)
Main: perfectly cooked lamb t-bone chops with potatoes and green olives
Wine: Avignonesi Montepulciano ’02
Auriga (with Jack and Bev, May)
Hambone and Spice had an outstanding meal at Auriga for Spice’s birthday in October 2005, and we were pleased to share the spot with Hambone’s father and his wife on their annual visit.
Start: Catalan stew (mussels, shrimp, fish, saffron, smoked paprika, carrots, celery, and almonds)
Main: New Zealand venison (with baby artichoke hearts, raisin reduction, and risotto)
Dessert: mocha mousse cake (12 amazing layers of thinly sliced cake, a slab of chocolate, chocolate sauce, coffee gelato, cappuccino foam, and chocolate crunch)
Wine: David Bruce petite syrah ’04
Five (October)
We were under the impression that Stewart Woodman was doing some molecular gastronomy at Five, but were faced with a straightforward menu when we ate here for Spice’s birthday celebration. The food was incredible so we weren’t disappointed, and the location (the former Fifth Precinct station) was a treat. I’m glad we had an opportunity to eat here before Woodman bowed out in December.
Start: duck breast (sliced and plated over duck confit, which sat on top of a creamy, tangy celery root slaw, yuzu soy butter)
Main: lamb loin in yogurt-cilantro sauce on orange-scented jasmine rice (“Bhopal style,” essentially a refined, but deconstructed, Indian curry, which is to say the lamb was sliced and placed on spinach, which was draped over the rice, with a moat of sauce)
Dessert: lemon crème brulee with pink peppercorns, lemon shortbread-like cookies (one of the most unusual and refreshing desserts of the year)
To end: Housemade mini donuts, an homage to the building’s original purpose, came with coffee
Restaurant discovery of the year: 112 Eatery
Chef-owned 112 Eatery is one of the most difficult reservations in town. Booking six to eight weeks out, Hambone and Spice made a decision, based on our first fantastic meal there, to do just that. We now have a standing reservation every six to eight weeks. Every meal has been a delight—from the marinated olives and sweet-spicy almonds that serve as nibbles while perusing the menu to the cardamom popcorn that comes with the check and everything in between. Hambone and Spice love the space (it reminds them of NYC neighborhood joints), and they love what chef Isaac Becker is doing in the kitchen—nothing short of totally innovative, approachable fare. While it's no surprise that the City Pages crowned this the best new restaurant 2006, Food and Wine loves 112 Eatery too, selecting the lamb scottadito (chops with goats milk yogurt) as a “best restaurant dish of 2006.” And, 112 Eatery has a well-edited wine list with something interesting for every budget.
July
Start: duck and radicchio salad (a true revelation with miso dressing, scallion, sliced eggs, and fresh bread crumbs)
Main: swordfish with harissa, coriander, turmeric, and shaved fennel with tiny, handmade pasta)
Dessert: chocolate pot de crème
Wine: Novellum Languedoc chardonnay (’04) and the Anton Bauer "gmork" gruner veltliner
September (Steve and Lisa)
Start: duck and radicchio salad (again, because I am going to try to make this at home)
Sides: gnocchi (pan-fried, ethereal, I can’t stop thinking about this dish)
Main: Berkshire pork tenderloin and golden chanterelle hash (very, very good)
Dessert: chocolate pot de crème (again)
Wine: Robert Picota ’03 syrah and Mark West pinot ’05
October (Steve and Lisa)
Start: stringozzi with lamb sugo (a handmade pasta with a rich lamb sauce)
Sides: cauliflower fritters, braised escarole (meltingly good)
Main: barrimundi with avocado butter (and corn, beets, couscous)
Wine: Marquis Philips cab ’05 (Australia) and Chateau d’Oupia (minervois) ’04 [sheepy]
Dessert: banana tart (surprising), tres leche cake (best dessert of the year), pot de crème
It will be very difficult to top the restaurant meals in 2006, so we may not even try (wink, wink).
Sunday, December 17, 2006
Stay-at-Home Vacation
In late August, shortly after we returned from our vacation in France, Hambone and Spice took another little vacation—at home. Alpha and Beta were with Spice’s parents at their lake home in South Dakota, busy eating vegetables straight out of Grandma’s enormous garden and fish that Grandpa had reeled fresh out of the lake. Hambone and Spice made plans to enjoy the quiet and to eat in a restaurant each night, which was an especially attractive idea since we weren’t paying a babysitter for the privilege of fine dining without the children. Herewith, a round-up of our fabulous week on the town.
Sunday: La Cucaracha
It had been a long time since I had eaten Mexican food, and I had been craving it, completely unprompted, as we made our drive back from South Dakota. So Hambone and I drove directly to La Cucaracha in St. Paul, widely regarded as the best Mexican west of the West Side and east of Lake and Chicago (Minneapolis). To start, we enjoyed margaritas and a queso-chorizo dip, which arrived with corn tortillas instead of chips. My main course was a smothered burrito with beef and beans. The burrito was also had lettuce in the filling, which is wrong. It gets soggy and nasty from the heat of the filling. One other little quibble—the burrito wasn’t spicy. I’m just saying we needn’t return to La Cuc any time soon.
Monday: Grand Cafe
Last November (2005) Hambone and I had a fine meal of rustic French fare—country pate and cassoulet—at Bakery on Grand in Minneapolis. We ate here with friends and loved the snug dining room, established around a bakery. Our server wanted to know where we lived and where we liked to eat. At the end of our meal, the owner brought us a beautiful boule from the bakery as a gift. Everything about the evening was nice—the food, service, and dining room were unpretentious, but high quality, and I couldn’t wait to return.
As I tried to make a reservation for January, I reached a recording that stated the restaurant was closed for renovations and would open by the end of the month. I called for weeks only to get a new recording that said the restaurant was under new management and would reopen in the future.
Finally, in August I decided to try my luck and easily made a reservation at the new Grand Café (not to be confused with the Greek diner of the same name that was near Macalester College in the mid-1990s).
Hambone and I were leery of the short menu, but the deeply red heirloom tomato and fresh mozzarella salad we shared to start was incredibly flavorful and piqued our interest. And, we had an outstanding country pate with olives, pecorino, and Cedar Lake tomme. I had a chicken that was messy in its presentation but utterly delicious—juicy from its buttermilk bath, crunchy from a roll in flour then fried to perfection. The chicken was served with some garlicky potatoes and pickled onions, olives, and asparagus. With these courses, we drank an Henri de Lanzac Lirac (2003), a sirah and grenache Rhone red. For dessert I had the butterscotch pudding, which tasted sort of like an undercooked, sweetened roux.
Hambone had a beautiful salmon filet with heirloom tomatoes, shaved artichokes, and hominy gnocchi (which were notable). In the end, we were both disappointed by our meal. We had really high expectations that the new restaurant just didn’t live up to. But I liked that the kitchen was so close that you could hear dinner being made—very homey indeed.
Tuesday: Alma
Hands down, Alma is one of my favorite restaurants of all time. I’m always eager to see what is on the menu, and I have never been disappointed by the meals eaten there. Chefs Jim Reininger and Alex Roberts excel at showcasing fresh, seasonal ingredients, prepared innovatively. I love the mix-and-match three-course prix fixe menu, which has awesome pricing and flexibility. This meal was the high point of my week.
To start
Grass-fed bison tartare with shallot, capers, mustard, “egg yolk” mayo
Every time I eat tartare, I have to dump preconceived ideas about what I’m eating—don’t get me wrong, I love raw meat—and think only about flavors. There is something about tartare, which is so close to uncooked hamburger, that makes me squeamish. But, the bison had flavor in spades—here, a rich, iron tang brightened by vinegary capers and shallot—which helped to overcome any issues I take with its form.
Pasta
Spaetzle with corn, hen of the woods mushroom, bacon
Stunning! Corn and bacon are my favorite late summer combination, especially when served with some sort of pasta. Now, add a meaty, earthy mushroom and I’m turned into a quivering bliss case. This dish reminded me so much of one I ate in Portland, OR, in 2002 and think about often.
Main
Crisp rabbit confit and panzanella with capers, currants, tomato and garlic, and natural jus
I never refuse confit-ed anything, and this rabbit was nicely gamey and meltingly soft.
Wine: Cotes du rhone blanc reserve Perrin ‘04
Hambone had an amazing meal as well. To start: muskmelon and local prosciutto; pasta: spaghetti nero with seared calamari, tomato concasse, tarragon, and lobster fumet; and main: rainbow trout and prawns with “fried” green tomatoes, sweet peas, thyme, and creole sauce.
Thursday: Vincent
Vincent is one of the few fine French dining spots in the Twin Cities. Anthony Bourdain hailed Vincent as one of the great places in town to eat tail-to-snout cuisine, although it has never been our luck to see foie or sweetbreads or other parts on Vincent’s menu.
The dining room was absolutely empty on this night, except for the six-top of middle-age, middle-class suburban ladies, and it’s a large space with high ceilings–the sort of dining room where you can be seen if you’d like. The food was good, but not great. I devoured scallops, which my body rejected, like clockwork, around midnight.
To start
Pan-seared scallops, leeks, fingerling potatoes, orange sauce
Caramelizing scallops by pan-searing is always a revelation. These seafood slabs were crispy and chewy, sweet and salty. The orange sauce sang with citrus and was mellowed by butter, an ideal complement to the scallops and potatoes.
Main
Thai snapper, flageolet beans, arugula, Spanish chorizo, almond-garlic froth
This entrée was a highlight of our gastronomic week. The snapper was flaky and moist and “of the sea,” while the arugula provided a fresh, green note to counter the spicy Spanish chorizo. The almond-garlic froth balanced the textures and grounded the flavors. In all, it was a really sensational dish.
Wine: S.Anderson, 2001 chardonnay from Stags Leap
Dessert
A perfectly French trio: pot de crème, crème caramel, and crème brulee
Friday: Davanni’s recovery
We had reservations for Five, but I couldn’t bring myself to eat another rich meal without taking a break of some sort, so I cancelled our highly anticipated table. By the end of the workday, I was hungry and feeling marginally better. Since I still felt like I had a hangover, I naturally gravitated toward hangover fare. The hominess of a hot (and greasy) salami hoagie from Davanni’s was a perfect remedy.
Saturday: Nami
We have a few favorite sushi restaurants around town, and quite frankly—as with friends—we’re not looking for new ones. However, when we took a sushi course this summer, the instructor (who teaches cooking professionally) gave us a list of his favorite places, as well as the reasons why he like them. Nami was on the list for impeccably fresh fish so John and I prioritized it.
Occupying a former warehouse space in downtown Minneapolis, Nami has an enormous dining room. The post-and-beam construction features natural wood and beige paint for a New Age whitewash effect. It’s uberhip, and although we weren’t the oldest, we were the fattest, least blonde folks there.
We started with shumai. These steamed pork dumplings had a wrapper infused with wasabi, which gave their juicy, porkyness a kick and sinus-clearing goodness. Then, the sushi. We shared a hand roll with kaiware, gobo, cucumber, bonito flakes, and salmon skin. Then moved on to nigiri: Japanese tai, tuna, bincho, toro, hamachi (ethereal), anago (I love to get the sea eel whenever I can, no gloppy sweet sauce), hotatagi (scallop), saba, black tobiko (fun).
Round two, which we almost always regret ordering (because in the time it takes to arrive, digestion sets in and rice begins to fill us up), took forever to arrive. True to form, we were stuffed, but choked down California rolls and spicy salmon rolls, which were very good, but not worth the wait.
In all, it was a truly excellent food week. The weather was stunning, the days still long. And, once out of our usual routine, we were able to enjoy the city and each other's company. In the new year, I'd like to take more holidays at home.
Sunday: La Cucaracha
It had been a long time since I had eaten Mexican food, and I had been craving it, completely unprompted, as we made our drive back from South Dakota. So Hambone and I drove directly to La Cucaracha in St. Paul, widely regarded as the best Mexican west of the West Side and east of Lake and Chicago (Minneapolis). To start, we enjoyed margaritas and a queso-chorizo dip, which arrived with corn tortillas instead of chips. My main course was a smothered burrito with beef and beans. The burrito was also had lettuce in the filling, which is wrong. It gets soggy and nasty from the heat of the filling. One other little quibble—the burrito wasn’t spicy. I’m just saying we needn’t return to La Cuc any time soon.
Monday: Grand Cafe
Last November (2005) Hambone and I had a fine meal of rustic French fare—country pate and cassoulet—at Bakery on Grand in Minneapolis. We ate here with friends and loved the snug dining room, established around a bakery. Our server wanted to know where we lived and where we liked to eat. At the end of our meal, the owner brought us a beautiful boule from the bakery as a gift. Everything about the evening was nice—the food, service, and dining room were unpretentious, but high quality, and I couldn’t wait to return.
As I tried to make a reservation for January, I reached a recording that stated the restaurant was closed for renovations and would open by the end of the month. I called for weeks only to get a new recording that said the restaurant was under new management and would reopen in the future.
Finally, in August I decided to try my luck and easily made a reservation at the new Grand Café (not to be confused with the Greek diner of the same name that was near Macalester College in the mid-1990s).
Hambone and I were leery of the short menu, but the deeply red heirloom tomato and fresh mozzarella salad we shared to start was incredibly flavorful and piqued our interest. And, we had an outstanding country pate with olives, pecorino, and Cedar Lake tomme. I had a chicken that was messy in its presentation but utterly delicious—juicy from its buttermilk bath, crunchy from a roll in flour then fried to perfection. The chicken was served with some garlicky potatoes and pickled onions, olives, and asparagus. With these courses, we drank an Henri de Lanzac Lirac (2003), a sirah and grenache Rhone red. For dessert I had the butterscotch pudding, which tasted sort of like an undercooked, sweetened roux.
Hambone had a beautiful salmon filet with heirloom tomatoes, shaved artichokes, and hominy gnocchi (which were notable). In the end, we were both disappointed by our meal. We had really high expectations that the new restaurant just didn’t live up to. But I liked that the kitchen was so close that you could hear dinner being made—very homey indeed.
Tuesday: Alma
Hands down, Alma is one of my favorite restaurants of all time. I’m always eager to see what is on the menu, and I have never been disappointed by the meals eaten there. Chefs Jim Reininger and Alex Roberts excel at showcasing fresh, seasonal ingredients, prepared innovatively. I love the mix-and-match three-course prix fixe menu, which has awesome pricing and flexibility. This meal was the high point of my week.
To start
Grass-fed bison tartare with shallot, capers, mustard, “egg yolk” mayo
Every time I eat tartare, I have to dump preconceived ideas about what I’m eating—don’t get me wrong, I love raw meat—and think only about flavors. There is something about tartare, which is so close to uncooked hamburger, that makes me squeamish. But, the bison had flavor in spades—here, a rich, iron tang brightened by vinegary capers and shallot—which helped to overcome any issues I take with its form.
Pasta
Spaetzle with corn, hen of the woods mushroom, bacon
Stunning! Corn and bacon are my favorite late summer combination, especially when served with some sort of pasta. Now, add a meaty, earthy mushroom and I’m turned into a quivering bliss case. This dish reminded me so much of one I ate in Portland, OR, in 2002 and think about often.
Main
Crisp rabbit confit and panzanella with capers, currants, tomato and garlic, and natural jus
I never refuse confit-ed anything, and this rabbit was nicely gamey and meltingly soft.
Wine: Cotes du rhone blanc reserve Perrin ‘04
Hambone had an amazing meal as well. To start: muskmelon and local prosciutto; pasta: spaghetti nero with seared calamari, tomato concasse, tarragon, and lobster fumet; and main: rainbow trout and prawns with “fried” green tomatoes, sweet peas, thyme, and creole sauce.
Thursday: Vincent
Vincent is one of the few fine French dining spots in the Twin Cities. Anthony Bourdain hailed Vincent as one of the great places in town to eat tail-to-snout cuisine, although it has never been our luck to see foie or sweetbreads or other parts on Vincent’s menu.
The dining room was absolutely empty on this night, except for the six-top of middle-age, middle-class suburban ladies, and it’s a large space with high ceilings–the sort of dining room where you can be seen if you’d like. The food was good, but not great. I devoured scallops, which my body rejected, like clockwork, around midnight.
To start
Pan-seared scallops, leeks, fingerling potatoes, orange sauce
Caramelizing scallops by pan-searing is always a revelation. These seafood slabs were crispy and chewy, sweet and salty. The orange sauce sang with citrus and was mellowed by butter, an ideal complement to the scallops and potatoes.
Main
Thai snapper, flageolet beans, arugula, Spanish chorizo, almond-garlic froth
This entrée was a highlight of our gastronomic week. The snapper was flaky and moist and “of the sea,” while the arugula provided a fresh, green note to counter the spicy Spanish chorizo. The almond-garlic froth balanced the textures and grounded the flavors. In all, it was a really sensational dish.
Wine: S.Anderson, 2001 chardonnay from Stags Leap
Dessert
A perfectly French trio: pot de crème, crème caramel, and crème brulee
Friday: Davanni’s recovery
We had reservations for Five, but I couldn’t bring myself to eat another rich meal without taking a break of some sort, so I cancelled our highly anticipated table. By the end of the workday, I was hungry and feeling marginally better. Since I still felt like I had a hangover, I naturally gravitated toward hangover fare. The hominess of a hot (and greasy) salami hoagie from Davanni’s was a perfect remedy.
Saturday: Nami
We have a few favorite sushi restaurants around town, and quite frankly—as with friends—we’re not looking for new ones. However, when we took a sushi course this summer, the instructor (who teaches cooking professionally) gave us a list of his favorite places, as well as the reasons why he like them. Nami was on the list for impeccably fresh fish so John and I prioritized it.
Occupying a former warehouse space in downtown Minneapolis, Nami has an enormous dining room. The post-and-beam construction features natural wood and beige paint for a New Age whitewash effect. It’s uberhip, and although we weren’t the oldest, we were the fattest, least blonde folks there.
We started with shumai. These steamed pork dumplings had a wrapper infused with wasabi, which gave their juicy, porkyness a kick and sinus-clearing goodness. Then, the sushi. We shared a hand roll with kaiware, gobo, cucumber, bonito flakes, and salmon skin. Then moved on to nigiri: Japanese tai, tuna, bincho, toro, hamachi (ethereal), anago (I love to get the sea eel whenever I can, no gloppy sweet sauce), hotatagi (scallop), saba, black tobiko (fun).
Round two, which we almost always regret ordering (because in the time it takes to arrive, digestion sets in and rice begins to fill us up), took forever to arrive. True to form, we were stuffed, but choked down California rolls and spicy salmon rolls, which were very good, but not worth the wait.
In all, it was a truly excellent food week. The weather was stunning, the days still long. And, once out of our usual routine, we were able to enjoy the city and each other's company. In the new year, I'd like to take more holidays at home.
Wednesday, November 01, 2006
Lunch Chronicles: Tanpopo
The first day of November bore a heavy, leaden sky and the attendant nip of cold temperatures, which means only one thing will do for lunch—soup. Despite bringing to work a thermos filled with homemade chicken-corn chowder, I thought I would treat myself to udon in a rich, nourishing broth at Tanpopo.
This Lowertown noodle shop is located in a warehouse cum artists' lofts. The space is beautiful, with the post-and-beam construction you find in Midwestern, brick warehouses from the 1880s, here whitewashed for a light, bright feel. The menu features noodles (soba or udon) in broth with a variety of toppings, including beef, tofu, tempura shrimp, tempura vegetables, and chicken. And, Tanpopo serves teishoku ("set meals") of a salad, miso soup, pickles, and an entree, some of which include broiled mackerel (saba), agedashi tofu, panko-breaded pork cutlet (tonkatsu), and a special featuring fresh, seasonal ingredients from the nearby St. Paul Farmers Market.
Hambone and I took a Japanese grilling class this past summer that was taught by Tanpopo's owner, Koshiki Yonemura, who had a remarkably calm demeanor in the kitchen. She showed us how to grill simple chicken skewers and a delectable salmon, as well as how to prepare a green salad with a miso dressing. All the food was very good.
I had hoped to walk away from the class with the formula for the restaurant's miso dressing. Yonemura gave us a recipe that was close but not quite the one that makes me want to drink what remains in bottom of the bowl when the lettuce, shaved red onion, cucumber slices, and shredded carrots have been slowly devoured. That stuff is magical and tugs at me every time I go to the restaurant.
So if I ever walk to Tanpopo, anticipating those restorative noodles, I can be sure that the special teishoku will win out. Today I took the sui gyoza, eight steamed dumplings filled with pork and napa cabbage, then doused with a chili sauce (also with miso and some brightness—I'm guessing it was ponzu) and sprinkled with scallions. The teishoku was really brilliant. Yonemura played with textures (crunchy and soft) and flavors (salty, sweet, sour, spicy), as well as temperatures (warm, hot, cold).
Still, those darling dumplings stole the show. Rather than the usual round wrapper folded over the filling and crimped to form half-moon shapes, the sui gyoza filling formed a small ball. The excess wrapper had couturier pleats that so that the filling appeared to be wearing a skirt.
I look forward to the treasure that my next lunch of noodles beholds!
This Lowertown noodle shop is located in a warehouse cum artists' lofts. The space is beautiful, with the post-and-beam construction you find in Midwestern, brick warehouses from the 1880s, here whitewashed for a light, bright feel. The menu features noodles (soba or udon) in broth with a variety of toppings, including beef, tofu, tempura shrimp, tempura vegetables, and chicken. And, Tanpopo serves teishoku ("set meals") of a salad, miso soup, pickles, and an entree, some of which include broiled mackerel (saba), agedashi tofu, panko-breaded pork cutlet (tonkatsu), and a special featuring fresh, seasonal ingredients from the nearby St. Paul Farmers Market.
Hambone and I took a Japanese grilling class this past summer that was taught by Tanpopo's owner, Koshiki Yonemura, who had a remarkably calm demeanor in the kitchen. She showed us how to grill simple chicken skewers and a delectable salmon, as well as how to prepare a green salad with a miso dressing. All the food was very good.
I had hoped to walk away from the class with the formula for the restaurant's miso dressing. Yonemura gave us a recipe that was close but not quite the one that makes me want to drink what remains in bottom of the bowl when the lettuce, shaved red onion, cucumber slices, and shredded carrots have been slowly devoured. That stuff is magical and tugs at me every time I go to the restaurant.
So if I ever walk to Tanpopo, anticipating those restorative noodles, I can be sure that the special teishoku will win out. Today I took the sui gyoza, eight steamed dumplings filled with pork and napa cabbage, then doused with a chili sauce (also with miso and some brightness—I'm guessing it was ponzu) and sprinkled with scallions. The teishoku was really brilliant. Yonemura played with textures (crunchy and soft) and flavors (salty, sweet, sour, spicy), as well as temperatures (warm, hot, cold).
Still, those darling dumplings stole the show. Rather than the usual round wrapper folded over the filling and crimped to form half-moon shapes, the sui gyoza filling formed a small ball. The excess wrapper had couturier pleats that so that the filling appeared to be wearing a skirt.
I look forward to the treasure that my next lunch of noodles beholds!
Saturday, October 21, 2006
A Few (New to Me) Blogs
Earlier this week as I was catching up on reading food blogs, I noticed a few unfamiliar blogs on link lists. After doing a little clicking, I was again struck by the knowledge that the internet is enormous. Even within this one little area of the blogosphere—that is, people who love to cook and eat, and then photograph and write about cooking and eating—is vast. Unless I do a little publicity, there is no chance anyone is just going to stumble upon my blog.
Without further navel-gazing, here are a few sites I'd like to test-drive:
Travelers Lunchbox
First impressions: magazine-style layout, links with a note about where the blogger is located, beautiful photos, and concise writing
Cumin & Coriander
First impressions: approachable and lively; nifty links to recipes featured on site
Everybody Likes Sandwiches
First impressions: love what the blogger has done with the Blogger template; another approachable and lively-looking site
A Finger in Every Pie
First impressions: long entries; lots of food bloggers already read this blog so peer influence made me do it
I'm a huge fan of Michael Ruhlman. I love his narrative style, how he deftly married journalism and creative writing in The Soul of a Chef and The Reach of a Chef. And, I enjoyed his spirited opinion when he was the guest blogger at Megnut. So, I'm delighted that he's agreed to blog on his own site.
Which food blogs do you enjoy reading?
Without further navel-gazing, here are a few sites I'd like to test-drive:
Travelers Lunchbox
First impressions: magazine-style layout, links with a note about where the blogger is located, beautiful photos, and concise writing
Cumin & Coriander
First impressions: approachable and lively; nifty links to recipes featured on site
Everybody Likes Sandwiches
First impressions: love what the blogger has done with the Blogger template; another approachable and lively-looking site
A Finger in Every Pie
First impressions: long entries; lots of food bloggers already read this blog so peer influence made me do it
I'm a huge fan of Michael Ruhlman. I love his narrative style, how he deftly married journalism and creative writing in The Soul of a Chef and The Reach of a Chef. And, I enjoyed his spirited opinion when he was the guest blogger at Megnut. So, I'm delighted that he's agreed to blog on his own site.
Which food blogs do you enjoy reading?
Sunday, October 15, 2006
A Few Reims Gems
While our fine dining experiences in Reims fell far short of those in Paris, Hambone and Spice did find pleasure in a few unexpected, and memorable, meals. One our first full day in Reims, we (our party included Hambone’s mother and her husband, as well as Hambone’s youngest brother, his wife, and their two young children) trekked a few miles across town to the Mumm (“moom”) champagne cellars. Upon arrival, we learned that the cellar was closed for lunch. As we were hungry and had an hour or so to fill before the next tour was given, we embarked upon finding food. We were within walking distance of the finest restaurant in Reims, but were told, in no uncertain terms, No children.
Since leaving the city center, we’d seen exactly one place to eat, just a block away—The Three Sisters, which didn’t look very promising from the exterior. Inside, our first impression was clouded by an unappetizing combination of fresh and stale cigarette smoke. Next, we observed that slightly grubby workers—likely Mumm’s truck drivers on their lunch break—occupied all the tables. Quickly, two tables were cleared for us. The bartender swept out from behind the bar and in halting English informed us that there was one thing on the lunch menu—chicken and mushrooms in a sauce over rice. All the adults agreed that they could eat this dish. The bartender offered to have sandwiches made for the children. And, we ordered up a bottle of table Bordeaux, which arrived at the table chilled. Our meal was very good, and the kids ate their enormous sandwiches without complaint.
A few days later, we found ourselves on Place d'Erlon, Reims’ main drag, which was lined with countless restaurants. Because of Reims' proximity to Belgium, many of these restaurants offered moules frites specials (steamed mussels and french fries). Since I adore mussels, I urged the group to try one of these places for lunch. And while I don’t recall the restaurant’s name, I do remember that you could order your moules in white wine and garlic or in cream or in a curry sauce.
Whenever we order mussels stateside, we are fairly accustomed to getting 10 or so mussels, about two inches in length, in a shallow bowl with a fair amount of sauce through which we drag crusty bread. But here we each received an enormous black pot. When the lid was removed, a savory, salty ocean scent wafted out. When the steam cleared, it revealed a pot with well over 50 tiny mussels, each containing a dime-size nugget of meat. A cold, smooth Duvel (a Belgian golden ale) was the perfect accompaniment to this outstanding lunch.
Since leaving the city center, we’d seen exactly one place to eat, just a block away—The Three Sisters, which didn’t look very promising from the exterior. Inside, our first impression was clouded by an unappetizing combination of fresh and stale cigarette smoke. Next, we observed that slightly grubby workers—likely Mumm’s truck drivers on their lunch break—occupied all the tables. Quickly, two tables were cleared for us. The bartender swept out from behind the bar and in halting English informed us that there was one thing on the lunch menu—chicken and mushrooms in a sauce over rice. All the adults agreed that they could eat this dish. The bartender offered to have sandwiches made for the children. And, we ordered up a bottle of table Bordeaux, which arrived at the table chilled. Our meal was very good, and the kids ate their enormous sandwiches without complaint.
A few days later, we found ourselves on Place d'Erlon, Reims’ main drag, which was lined with countless restaurants. Because of Reims' proximity to Belgium, many of these restaurants offered moules frites specials (steamed mussels and french fries). Since I adore mussels, I urged the group to try one of these places for lunch. And while I don’t recall the restaurant’s name, I do remember that you could order your moules in white wine and garlic or in cream or in a curry sauce.
Whenever we order mussels stateside, we are fairly accustomed to getting 10 or so mussels, about two inches in length, in a shallow bowl with a fair amount of sauce through which we drag crusty bread. But here we each received an enormous black pot. When the lid was removed, a savory, salty ocean scent wafted out. When the steam cleared, it revealed a pot with well over 50 tiny mussels, each containing a dime-size nugget of meat. A cold, smooth Duvel (a Belgian golden ale) was the perfect accompaniment to this outstanding lunch.
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