Restaurants: February 2004 Archives
Todd and I went here late Saturday afternoon, for some wine, salumi and sandwiches. I really love their menu, especially if I'm with someone who's just willing to graze on starters and maybe split a sandwich. I have to admit that I've never had a main plate here because I'm always too full on the other stuff (never had dessert here, either, which is really sad because a couple of the desserts looked remarkable).
Todd started with a New York State microbrew that he really enjoyed, and the waitress suggested a glass of German weisser burgunder for me: clear, crisp, hardly sweet at all with a full flavor and a nice bite at the end. We had a salumi assortment and really liked the coppa, hot soppressata and speck.
When Todd ordered the hen of the woods sandwich, I was at a loss. Clearly he's thinking he's ordering some kind of fowl, not a deceptively named fungus. What should I have done? I said, "Oh, I thought you didn't like mushrooms," which Todd said was snotty (my word, not his). I guess I should have waited until he had a mouthful and said, "Oh, by the way, hen of the woods is a mushroom," and laughed and laughed as he spit the offending bite into his napkin and gargled with his microbrew.
I had a tuna sandwhich, which involved three slices of crustless pullman white and two layers of not-white tuna dressed minimally, with just capers and pickled onions. It was very good and, with the right tuna, easily reproducable at home, I would think. That's what I love about this place: really good ingredients.
When I was thinking about writing about our visit to Q, A Thai Bistro, I realized the two dishes I really wanted to mention, Todd's whole roasted sea bass and the cabernet-pear tart we shared for dessert, don't really seem very Thai. Although maybe roasting a fish whole is a traditional Thai preparation. I'm not sure. It was an impressive presentation, though. (I was a little jealous.) The fish had crispy skin and came with a hot and sweet garlic sauce.
The cabernet-pear tart was interesting. The cabernet part seemed to be a thin layer of cabernet gelatin on top of the tart, which consisted of a dense almond-flavored cake with chunks of pear. I'm intrigued by the possibility of making wine-flavored gelatin. Maybe I'll look for recipes, or experiment. Not entirely sure it's a great idea, but who knows?
Anyway, it seems odd to be able to drop this much money on Thai food in my neighborhood. It's a nice place, but it still seems a little pricey (which is probably why we haven't been there more than twice).
When I was thinking about writing about our visit to Q, A Thai Bistro, I realized the two dishes I really wanted to mention, Todd's whole roasted sea bass and the cabernet-pear tart we shared for dessert, don't really seem very Thai. Although maybe roasting a fish whole is a traditional Thai preparation. I'm not sure. It was an impressive presentation, though. (I was a little jealous.) The fish had crispy skin and came with a hot and sweet garlic sauce.
The cabernet-pear tart was interesting. The cabernet part seemed to be a thin layer of cabernet gelatin on top of the tart, which consisted of a dense almond-flavored cake with chunks of pear. I'm intrigued by the possibility of making wine-flavored gelatin. Maybe I'll look for recipes, or experiment. Not entirely sure it's a great idea, but who knows?
Anyway, it seems odd to be able to drop this much money on Thai food in my neighborhood. It's a nice place, but it still seems a little pricey (which is probably why we haven't been there more than twice).
Inspired by Chocolate & Zucchini and a recipe for eggs over asparagus and prosciutto in that Solo Suppers article, I had a baked egg for dinner, accompanied by a buttered slice of bread, roasted Brussels sprouts and a glass of wine.
It wasn't just any baked egg, though. Baked with cream and in a waterbath, seasoned with salt, pepper and fresh thyme, this egg was silky and well-seasoned, with that sweet, fresh fragrance of thyme.
I heated the oven to 450 degrees as soon as I got home. I halved the largest Brussels sprouts and tossed them all with olive oil, salt and pepper and roasted them for 15 minutes before I started preparing the egg. To make the egg I poured in a little bit of heavy cream (just enough to cover the bottom of a ramekin) then broke the egg into the cream, at which point the cream seeped through the sides to cover the egg. Seasoned with salt and pepper, placed the ramekin in a baking dish, put it in the oven, then I filled the larger dish with nearly-boiling water. Baked for 12 minutes, then took out both the Brussels sprouts and the egg. Sprinkled fresh thyme over the egg.
I know, there's a group out there saying, "What does 'leftover wine' mean?" But this recipe is really worth the cup of good red wine it uses. It's a recipe that I adapted from Epicurious.com because I didn't have all the ingredients it called for. I had tried one of my birthday wines, the one from the formerly Cote-du-Rhone region of Gigondas, and wanted to give it a spin in some food.
First I soaked pieces of day-old French bread (crusts on) in whole milk for 10 minutes (I'd guess 1 1/2 cups of bread to about 1/2 cup milk). Meanwhile I finely chopped half a white onion and a handful of fresh parsley. Put a little less than a pound of ground beef in the food processor, then added the onion and parsley, 1 egg, the soaked bread (omitting any milk that wasn't soaked up), dried sage, salt and pepper. Processed it all until it was a consistent paste (this took awhile and was kind of difficult, as the processor was really full; I think I'd put the bread on the bottom next time). Formed into 2-inch meatballs and baked in single layer in a glass baking dish at 350 degrees for 30 minutes.
Tossed the baked meatballs with a light dusting of flour, then panfried them in butter and olive oil until they were brown. Then I added a mixture of 1 cup wine, one small can tomato juice and some chicken-stock paste to the pan, stirring to get some of the stuff on the bottom of the pan. Brought to a boil and bubbled for about 20 minutes, until the sauce was nice and thick. Sprinkled with more parsley. I served with bread, but the recipe from Epicurious suggested mashed potatoes, which I think would be even better. The sauce is fantastic, rich and winey, with a concentrated flavor.
Julie and I went to Amy's Bread on 9th Avenue yesterday during lunch just to get in a walk to enjoy the nice weather. She bought lunch, I bought a loaf of French bread, then I ordered an oatmeal cookie that had been calling to me while I waited for Julie to get her sandwich.
The woman who was waiting on us (we thought she might be Amy) recommended these lime-cornmeal cookies that I had also been eyeing; it didn't take much convincing for me to switch my order. The yellow cookie was about 3 inches in diameter and rounded like a drop cookie, with just enough lime glaze to deliver a burst of sweet tartness with each bite. The rustic, coarse texture was soft in the center and kind of crunchy on the edges. The cookie part was not very sweet at all, which was a perfect balance for that glaze, and had flecks of lime zest throughout. We both liked it, and Julie kept mentioning it all afternoon.
Julie and I went to Amy's Bread on 9th Avenue yesterday during lunch just to get in a walk to enjoy the nice weather. She bought lunch, I bought a loaf of French bread, then I ordered an oatmeal cookie that had been calling to me while I waited for Julie to get her sandwich.
The woman who was waiting on us (we thought she might be Amy) recommended these lime-cornmeal cookies that I had also been eyeing; it didn't take much convincing for me to switch my order. The yellow cookie was about 3 inches in diameter and rounded like a drop cookie, with just enough lime glaze to deliver a burst of sweet tartness with each bite. The rustic, coarse texture was soft in the center and kind of crunchy on the edges. The cookie part was not very sweet at all, which was a perfect balance for that glaze, and had flecks of lime zest throughout. We both liked it, and Julie kept mentioning it all afternoon.
Todd had suckling pig at Bar Pitti last night, and it was like nothing I had ever tasted before. The meat was so white and mild, and the texture was so soft, almost like it wasn't even meat. I can't come up with a way to describe it; maybe like biting into a bread dough that you've just finished kneading. It made me a little sad, though, because it was so clearly young flesh. It's odd; I don't have the same qualms about veal.
I have to say, too, that this is one of the most welcoming restaurants I've eaten at. The waiter was friendly and casual, and explained everything in detail. Two of our party were about an hour late and had told us to go ahead and eat without them. The restaurant needed the table we were at for a party with reservations and seemed a little anxious about serving our friends, but they were very apologetic and nice about it.
We just had a sneak peek at the new Whole Foods in the Time Warner building (which is about 8 blocks up from my office, so I was curious), and it was a zoo.
I guess I'm kind of ambivalent because of all fuss (it is, dare I say it, just a grocery store). But they do have nice selections of cheese, fish (sea scallops for $7.99 a pound, which seemed like a decent price to me), produce, meat, olive oils (they have their own brand, which is pretty decent, and then have added a red seal to other brands they like) and prepared foods (sushi, Jamba Juice, soups and lots of prepackaged foods like samosas, summer rolls, potato pancakes, falafel, plus they'll have Thai, Indian and Mexican food bars soon). I have to go back and peruse the cheese more carefully, and I noticed they have a lot of smoked and cured fish I'd like to try: smoked trout, whitefish and salmon, salmon "candy."
And, oh, the produce was pretty: Baby white eggplants and green and purple cauliflowers, a trio of colors of tight, squeaky-looking cabbages, piles of clementines. They also have a chocolate-dipping station, where they can dip anything, a bakery, other confections, a special wine shop.
It's hard to tell from here whether I'll become a regular shopper. Eight blocks is so near, but in NYC it's also just far enough away that there are closer options. The selection will probably draw me back, though.
We called too late to get reservations to the Biltmore Room on Saturday night for my birthday, so we found ourselves there, in a cozy, intimate room at 9:30 on Sunday night. The fireplace had a fire in it, and couples sat side-by-side at tables along the wall, talking low with their heads together. Midway through our meal the staff had begun cleaning up to close, but we felt leisurely, comfortable, and our waiter never rushed us a bit. I liked it. I may get in the habit of having dinner late on a weeknight.
Oh, and the food was good, too. Todd's starter was quail with a pumpkin risotto that had a rich, smokey-ham flavor. Out of curiosity I ordered stuffed squash blossom, which was a strange choice for a January dinner, a light and crispy fried blossom (much bigger than I thought it would be) stuffed with crab and served with corn and avocado.
The main courses we ordered were really the highlights, though (I'm starting to think that's as it should be). Todd had cocoa-dusted venison, and I feel like I tasted allspice in there, too. I had spiced duck breast, served medium-rare with port-braised figs. I love duck, at least in the incarnations I've had it. We split the warm pear financier, and the ginger ice cream that accompanied it was still a knockout. I said I'm going to have to try to replicate it, and Todd looked at me mournfully and reminded me that I'm not so good at making ice cream. (I just think I need practice.)
Anyway, it was good; we were very happy. It'd be nice if they changed their menu, maybe seasonally. But we're officially fans now (Todd, too).
