Dining In/Dining Out Goes "Green"

In other recommended reading, today's edition of Dining In/Dining Out is spectacular. With a focus on "eating green," check out the four featured stories about locavores , foie gras, biodynamic wine making, and a fantastic story about Prince Charles, who has become a "hero" within the organic/slow food movement in the U.S.

Clams

I've always loved clams. As a kid growing up in Virginia, one of my favorite meals was fried clams at Howard Johnson's. I liked the chewiness of the clams, and I loved the tartar sauce. It's hard to go wrong with serving a kid anything fried, but I think I developed an early and lasting love for these little shellfish as a result of those occasional meals at HoJo's.

Now, I like clams much less disguised, though their chewiness still appeals to me. I'll eat clams raw, but I usually enjoy them with pasta or as a topping on pizza.

In the food section of today's Chronicle, Olivia Wu has a nice piece on local Bay Area Manilla clams. She tells the story of the rise in clam growing in Tamales Bay, and she features Martin Strain, one of the early clam growers who helped bring clams to cooks and diners in San Francisco (check out the photos too). I was happy to read that he only sells his clams at the Alemany Farmer's Market (another reason to check out the market).

Anyway, I recommend the story. I plan on picking up some clams this weekend at Alemany and cooking them up. More on my culinary adventures with clams soon.

Celebrating Baby Kai (and his parents)

A couple of weeks ago we gave a celebratory dinner for our friends Amy and Frank in honor of the recent birth of their son, Kai. We also celebrated Amy's return to drinking wine!



We assembled a special menu and pulled out all the stops to fete them right.

For hors d'oeurves, we served a selection of cheeses, with honey and marcona almonds.

For the first course, we served a sunflower sprout salad with sieved egg, orange and red pepper sections and a citrus-champagne viniagrette. I had been imagining a salad with sieved egg for a few weeks, and Lou thought of using the sunflower sprouts as greens. It turned out to be a light and refreshing spring salad.



For the second course, Lou made a potato and black truffle tourine, a recipe he found in a Masters of European Cooking cookbook he bought a year or so ago. I had dismissed most of the recipes in the cookbook as being a little too fussy for my tastes, but Lou picked out a winner. And, he executed it flawlessly. He prepared the tourine by layering shaved, cooked potatoes and shaved truffles and then soaking them in a rich beef and mushroom broth. The tourine chilled in the refrigerator for several hours before serving, allowing the broth to seep into the layers of potato and truffle and flavor them completely. He garnished the dish with homemade mock creme fraiche. It was a masterpiece.



For the main course, I grilled flank steak, using a dry herb rub that Lou's sister had given us for Christmas. I also roasted cauliflower, using our Delfina Pizza inspired recipe of olive oil, capers, anchovies, green peppercorns, red pepper flakes, sea salt and freshly ground black pepper. Lou concocted a homemade Kimchi-horseradish sauce, which he made by mixing mock creme fraiche with grated horseradish root and store-bought kimchi. Delicious! We forgot to take a picture until after we had mostly devoured the dish.



For dessert, I baked a strawberry-rhubarb pie, which we served with homemade vanilla bean ice cream.



For wines, we started with a Roederer Estates sparkling wine, followed by a 1985 Silver Oak Cabernet Sauvignon, which was devine. It tasted of tobacco and blackberries and was perfectly balanced and smooth. This was the special bottle Lou had reserved for Amy. With dessert, we served a Sauternes which I bought at Bi-Rite. I don't remember the winemaker.

I bet even baby Kai will remember this dinner. Congratulations, Frank and Amy!

We are Indeed What We Eat

Michael Pollan has a good piece in today's New York Times Magazine that I'd recommend. I still haven't read "The Omnivore's Dilema," but I've found his other writing about what we eat, where it comes from and who we are because of what we eat illuminating. Check it out.

Food Foraging: The Alemany Farmer's Market

There are several farmer's markets in San Francisco each weekend, and for the last year or so I've usually found my way to the Alemany Farmer's Market, located on the south side of Bernal Heights. I'm a big fan.

Even though it lacks the stunning views of the Ferry Building Farmer's Market and even though I am not sure all the produce is organic or sustainably farmed, the produce is fresh and very cheap. I also like the diversity of the patrons of the market; in many ways the customers reflect the diversity of San Francisco much more than the Ferry Building market, which is usually overrun by tourists.

I woke up early, so by 9 am I had finished two cups of coffee, read the paper and eaten the pineapple breakfast cake they gave us as we leftGary Danko on Thursday night. With time to kill until my swim practice at 11:30, I convinced Lou to join me for a trip to the market.

Today, we bought three bunches of asparagus for $7, one basket of strawberries for $3, some romanesco broccoli for $4 a head and some broccoli rabe-like cauliflower for $5. We also bought some honey--Blackberry Blossom, Orange Blossom and Eucalyptus--for $14.

We've also bought flowers there the last couple of weekends, and we've never spent more than $30 on bunches of fresh flowers. Here's Lou with the flowers.



Here are some almonds on the branch. We haven't decided what to do with them yet.



And, here's me with the honey man.



And here's a picture of the jars of honey.

Snapshot Restaurant Review: Gary Danko

Lou took me to Gary Danko last night to celebrate my 35th birthday. It was a fantastic meal, from start to finish. Impeccable service. Flawless food. What a great birthday treat! Lou had eaten there several times before, but I was a virgin. Sorry, no other pictures; we forgot our camera.

We started the meal with a bottle of 1998 Dom Perignon and decided to share the evening's chef's tasting menu, which featured Villa Mille Rose Olive Oil as a theme in many of the dishes, and another tasting that we assembled ourselves from the select-your-own-courses part of the menu. I won't describe every course, but I want to mention a few of the stand out dishes.

First up, Nettle Soup with Burgundy Escargots and Maitake Mushrooms. The nettles were pureed with spinach and mixed with cream. The server poured the soup into a bowl in which the escargots and mushrooms were arranged in a small, tight cylinder. All together, the soup tasted like a pesto, with the nettles and spinach evoking the basil and the escargots and mushrooms providing hints of nuttiness. Small strips of meyer lemon zest added an unexpected zing to each bite, and the tendermess of the snails contrasted nicely with the silkiness of the soup. It may have been the best dish of the night; it was certainly a delicious starter.

Next, Roast Maine Lobster with Morel Mushrooms, Asparagus and Tarragon. The lobster tail was arranged in its shell and covered with a buttery sauce made up of morels, asparagus and whole sprigs of tarragon. I love lobster, asparagus, morels and tarragon, so this was a perfect combination of ingredients for me.

Other stand outs: Striped Bass with Cannellini Beans, Broccoli Rabe and Bagna Cauda, Seared Squab Breast and Stuffed Leg with Olive Oil Risotto, Rhubard Confit and Spring Onion, and Lemon Herb Duck Breast with Duck Hash and Rhubarb Compote.

We also sampled some wonderful cheeses. I know Brillat Savarin, a gruyere and several others were among them, but I can't remember the names due my tipsy state when the cheese course began. Not only did we finish off the bottle of champagne, but we also drank a half bottle of Armand Rousseau, Gevrey-Chambertin 2001 (an amazingly smooth and well-balanced red Burgundy).

For dessert, we shared a Honey Mousse with Olive Oil Sponge Cake, Pistachio Cream and Lemon Gelee and a Baked Chocolate Souffle with Two Sauces (chocolate and Creme Anglaise). Lou loved the souffle and I loved the honey mousse and olive oil sponge cake, so dessert worked out well for us. We ordered glasses of a Tokaji Aszú, Kiralyudvar, Cuvée Ilona, 5 Puttonyos, Hungary 2001 to pair with the mousse and cake and a Banyuls, Jacques Laverriere, Clos Chatart, Vin Doux Naturel, Languedoc-Roussillon, France 1998 for the souffle. They also brought me a lemon mousse cake with a single tall candle on it for my birthday. Yes, three desserts! A great finish.

Gary Danko at last! Thank you, Lou, for a stunning birthday meal.

Vincent Dancer

Thanks to Josh, the wine buyer at Bi-Rite, I just picked up three bottles of Vincent Dancer (click here if you don't read French very well) Chassagne-Montracht ler Cru "Tete du Clos." I tried the 2004 vintage at Alinea in March, and I asked Josh to find some bottles of that vintage for me. He was only able to find three bottles of the 2002 left in the U.S. All the other 2002s, 2003s and 2004s were sold out. Lucky me. I'm going to store these for a while and try them on some future special occasion. I'll write more about them then.

Snapshot Restaurant Review: Birthday Dinner at Jack Falstaff

My friends, Amy and Jen, treated Lou and me to dinner on Tuesday night at Jack Falstaff. The occasion was my 35th birthday. I've noticed the restaurant before when driving around South Beach--the rusted metal exterior has caught my eye. So I was happy to finally try it out. The space inside is small, fairly sleek and decorated in various tones of green. Much more warm than the exterior suggests.

I ordered a Sweet Onion Velouté to start, followed by the Bouillabaise with Sweet Gulf Prawns, Fresh Sea Scallops, Manila Clams, Green Garlic, Andouille Sausage, Pebble Potatoes and Lemon Confit. I paired the soup with a dry Alsatian Riesling and the bouillabaise with a viognier. The food was very good. Lou had foie gras for a starter and black truffle risotto for his main course. Amy and Jen had Crisp Asparagus & Duck Prosciutto and Kobe Beef-Style Steak Tartare for starters and Thick Cut Duroc Pork Chop and Seared Lamb Tenderloin for their main courses. We were all pleased with the food. For dessert we shared a Warm Chocolate Ganache Cake with Hazelnut Brittle Ice Cream, Candied Kumquats, Kettle Corn (amazingly delicious, especially with the kettle corn!), a Blueberry Crumble with Granola Crusted Pie, Old-Fashioned Vanilla Ice Cream and an Angel Cake with Bay Leaf Infused Berries, Whipped Goat Cheese. The ganache cake was outstanding, in large part due to the surprising texture added by the kettle corn. It was the best dessert by far.

My only complaint about the restaurant was that our server knew nothing about wine, and rather than calling over the sommelier to answer our questions he tried to fake it. It was slightly annoying, especially his description of one wine as "austere." Of course, catching up with Amy and Jen was wonderful, and overall the meal was very special. We took turns telling stories about our memories of our all-time best restaurant dining experiences, and it made for a wonderful evening of celebration.

Thanks Jen and Amy!

Les Petits Princes

Mark Bittman has a short piece on the pleasures of anchovies in Dining In/Dining Out today. I mention it only because living with an italian, anchovies are king in our kitchen. We cook with them all the time, using them to flavor vinaigrettes and to spice up roasted vegetables and sauces. I've threatened our friend Amy with making anchovy panna cotta some time soon, and she actually thinks it sounds kind of good as a savory dish. We'll see. Anyway, if you're shy about anchovies, consider Bittman's advice. Here's his simple recipe for pasta with garlic, anchovies and tomatoes.

Revisiting Thailand

Last April, Lou and I spent seventeen days traveling around Thailand. It was a wonderful trip from start to finish, but the food was one aspect of the trip we enjoyed most of all. As some of you readers know, I took a long break from blogging late last spring and summer, and as a result I never posted about the food we sampled in Thailand. Now that a full year has passed, I thought I'd take you on a photographic look back on some of the simple and delicious food we tasted while visiting that lovely country.

A few words about Thai cooking: everywhere we went--Bangkok, Chiang Mai and on Phuket--the food was simple and made of fresh ingridients. Most often, we ate a spicy salad, made with a consistent base of fish sauce, lime and some assortment of fruits or vegetables and meat or fish, along with rice and some kind of curry, again made consistently with coconut milk, curry paste, whole green peppercorns, and some combination of vegetables and meats, fish or shellfish. No matter whether we ate on the street, at little cafes or in fancier restaurants, the food was always a delight.

Here are some pictures of a few of our meals.

Pork and kale with noodles at the Jim Thompson House Restaurant in Bangkok.



Lou at lunch in Pai in northwest Thailand before we rode the elephant. We often would down a large Singha with a lunch of rice and curry.



This is a spicy chicken curry with bamboo shoots (one of my favorites!).



Some delicious vegetables at dinner in Pai.



That same night we also ordered an unusual shaved lemongrass and cashew salad. I would not normally expect whole, raw lemongrass to be edible, but it was quite tasty with the cashews and light dressing of lime juice and fish sauce.



Here's a picture of a typical spicy beef salad, this one on Koh Racha, where we stayed for several nights at the southern end of Phuket.



While at the Racha, we took a Thai cooking class. Here's a picture of the chefs.



Here's our green curry.



And our Tom Yam Goong (spicy seafood soup).



And our spicy seafood salad.



And me enjoying the results of our class efforts.



A sample of the fresh seafood that was on display at markets everywhere we went. This is also on Koh Racha.



Here's a picture of my birthday cake at the Racha. It was an iced banana cake.



And, finally, here's a picture of the best Mango Sticky Rice we tasted in Thailand. We ordered it at our hotel, the Chedi, in Chiang Mai, and they served it with coconut ice cream. Yum!



What a trip!

You can take the boys out of the country, but can you take the country out of the boys? Or, Alinea meets Rockbridge.

I’ve been meaning to write up my meal at Alinea in Chicago for several weeks, and since I’ve decided to post once every day this week, I’m going to knock out this posting.

About four weeks ago I met five of my close friends from high school in Chicago for a weekend reunion. One of my friends has a membership in a destination vacation club and he graciously reserved a spacious condo for our use in the North Loop. Located on the 46th floor, the condo overlooked Grant and Millennium Parks and the Art Institute of Chicago and gave us a sweeping view of the Sears Tower, many other skyscrapers and Lake Michigan. Despite some low cloud cover that settled in for two of the days we were there, it was a spectacular place to stay.



Even more than the view, I enjoyed the opportunity to reconnect with my old friends. I’ve known some of these guys for more than thirty years, and we’ve managed to sustain our friendships through high school, college, into our 20s and 30s, despite the divergent directions our lives have taken. Two of us now live in California and the other four live in or near our hometown in Virginia. Without wives, boyfriends or children, each of us relished the chance to reconnect and enjoy each other. It was a special reunion.


We had planned very little for the weekend, waiting to see what would unfold and hoping to explore the city spontaneously once we all arrived. I wanted to make plans for dinner, however, and when we all first agreed to meet in Chicago I suggested we plan a meal at Charlie Trotter’s. I knew of Charlie Trotter’s, but had never eaten there before. I called and made a reservation with no problem at all. I was actually somewhat surprised by the ease with which I was able to reserve a table, especially after having tried so many times to book a table at The French Laundry. I expected more difficulty in making a reservation. I scoured the postings about Charlie Trotter’s on Chowhound and investigated the Chicago restaurant scene further and concluded that Charlie Trotter’s was a little tired. Instead, I decided that I wanted to try Alinea, Grant Achatz’s restaurant known for his version of molecular gastronomy that has received many rave reviews in the food press. I called and was able to book a table for six.

Some of my friends grumbled a little about the restaurant (mostly concerning the cost), but after hashing it on email before we arrived in Chicago everyone agreed to give it a try. It turned out to be a marvelous meal, both in terms of the food and in terms of our camaraderie. One of the nice things about the meal was that with a group of six we were able both to carry on conversations as a table, engaging all six of us, and to break off into side conversations of among just two or three of us. We alternated back and forth between having smaller, more intimate conversations and conversations involving all of us. We talked, of course, about the food and about what we were all experiencing thanks to Achatz and his staff, but we also talked about our current lives and the future and we reveled in our common memories of times past. I deeply respect and like all of those guys, and it meant a great deal to me to be able to spend the time with them.

Now, about the food.

Achatz offers two menus, the tasting, which is a fourteen course tasting menu, and the tour, which is a twenty two course tasting menu. We opted for the tasting and chose the wine parings to go along with dinner. At the start of the meal, the servers placed several sprigs of rosemary in the middle of the table. Immediately, the rosemary scent enveloped the table and set the stage for an unfolding feast of tastes and smells.

The first course (don’t worry, I’m going to describe every course) was a lovely little croquette featuring smoked steelhead roe. It was bite-sized, served on a small pedestal and it tasted a little like a smoked fish hush puppy.



A few courses later, we were served one of the most unusual dishes. It was the “apple.” The dish was actually a frozen or iced horseradish ball, bite-sized, topped with a small shaving of celery, resting in a small shot of apple puree, which looked, smelled and tasted like apple juice. The idea was to shoot the dish, and the dish enlivened the nose and palate. Lifting the glass, I smelled the celery, then swallowing the horseradish ball, my tongue came alive with the flaming sensation of horseradish, only to be immediately cooled and soothed by the apple juice chaser. It was a brilliant combination.



Three of the meat courses are worth describing. The first, and the best dish of the night, was the monkfish. Prepared and served three ways—as crisps, as roast and as mousse—the fish was served along with small onions and banana and lime purees. It was unbelievably good, and I liked the combination of the crispiness of the fish and the soft and tenderness of the roasted fish and the soft, saltiness of the mousse, along with the sweetness of onion and banana and the acidity of lime.



The next dish was, by far, the most dramatic. The servers place pillows of juniper air before each of us (cloth pillows were lined with plastic bags and filled with juniper infused air). Then, the servers placed the plates holding the duck preparation on the pillows, causing the pillows to slowly release juniper air to enhance the flavor of the duck. I’d say the juniper was a subtle addition, but the duck itself was a perfectly prepared, and many of my friends thought it was the best dish of the night. For me, it was second only to the monkfish.





The final meat worth mentioning was the lamb. The servers brought out three bite-sized preparations of lamb resting on 325 degree bricks. They then placed the rosemary sprigs that adorned the center of the table at the end of each of our bricks, allowing the rosemary to add to the smell of the lamb.



None of the desserts in particular stood out, though the final dessert, which was not printed on the menu, was a "caramel." It was really a meyer lemon beignet attached to a cinnamon stick—it was actually more or less a sweet, lemon and cinnamon hush puppy. It served as a complimentary bookend to the savory fish hush puppy that opened the meal. Those of us who finished the meal with coffee used the cinnamon sticks to stir our coffee. Delicious!



A few of the wines are also worth mentioning. The sommelier was a doppelganger for my friend Greg’s brother. He paid special attention to us and delivered some wonderful wine pairings. The best wine was the Vincent Dancer Chassagne-Montracht ler Cru "Tete du Clos", 2004, served with the monkfish. The other two dessert wines were also quite good, one from Hungry, Oremus Tokaji Aszu "5 Puttonyos" 1999 and one from Austria, Hans Tschida Chardonnay "Schilfwein", Neusiediersee, 2000. We also ordered a bottle of a Willamette Valley Pinot Noir, a Ken Wright Cellars Pinot 2004 (I think). We drank it in between courses.



A few final thoughts:

The space at Alinea is beautiful. The ultra-modern dining rooms are sleek and calm, with low lighting and gray, black and cream color tones. The walls were sparsely decorated and with several minimalist flower arrangements placed around each of the dining rooms.

I was somewhat surprised by the static nature of the menu. We were served the exact menu that I had read on the Alinea website a week before we showed up at the restaurant, and the menu is still the same today. Coming from California, where most restaurants change their menus almost daily, depending upon what’s most fresh, I expected more or less the same at Alinea. Achatz, who trained at The French Laundry, seems to take the view that he’d rather perfect his dishes and serve them consistently for a season than change the menu daily. I was a little disappointed that the menu did not seem to vary more often and that we weren’t trying some new creations. I was also disappointed in by the response from one of our servers about where they source the food. I asked whether all the food was organic, locally and sustainably farmed, and the server’s reply was, to say the least, vague. He said was that Alinea uses some of the same producers that supply The French Laundry. I was surprised that the menu did not include a statement about food sourcing. No matter, I was still blown away by Achatz’s attention to detail, his careful, beautiful and tasty preparations and by the experience as a whole.

If you find yourself in Chicago any time soon, I highly recommend trying out Alinea.

And thanks to my Lexington friends for a wonderful weekend.

Coi

Foie Gras Ice Cream.

Those four words alone could serve as a summary of the outstanding meal Lou and I shared on Friday night at Coi (pronounced Kwah).

I had read about Coi a few times over the last year, including most recently in the current issue of Food & Wine. I can’t say that anything I had read led me to want to break down the door, but it was on my list of restaurant to try. Then, Lou had dinner with a friend on Thursday night and when he mentioned that I had recently experienced a wonderful meal at Alinea while I was in Chicago in March his friend suggested that we try out Coi, where Daniel Patterson performs his own version of molecular gastronomy.

On the way to the pool on Friday night we called over to see if we could reserve a table. Success! They could seat us at 8:45. We hurried through our workout and headed over for dinner.

I was completely unprepared for what was about to unfold. My impressions about the restaurant were so vague and off-based that I did not know we would end up having one of the best meals I’ve eaten so far this year (it’s been a good year for eating out so far). We let the talented staff spoil and pamper us, we soaked in the sleek, but warm design of the dining room and we enjoyed every bite of memorable feast Patterson and his staff prepared for us.



You can see from the menu that Patterson has constructed an eleven course tasting menu, priced at $115. We chose the full tasting—as opposed to a four course mini-tasting menu priced for less—and asked that they serve us both options, which we would share, when the menu allowed for two choices on certain courses. I learned that lesson at Hatfield’s—we were able to taste everything on the menu. We also ordered the wine pairings to go along with our meal, in large part because the sommelier enthusiastically described some of his innovative wine parings (more on the wine later). Before we were seated, I did not know that the menu was designed as a tasting menu, so I was very much surprised, and delighted, to read about what was in store for us.

I’ll spare you every detail about each course, but a few of the courses are worth commenting on in detail:

The first course was a compote, I suppose, of pink grapefruit, ginger, tarragon and black pepper foam, served in a small bowl set on a long, rectangular plate. The bowl was set to the left side of the plate, and on the right side was a drop of Coi perfume (on sale for $49). Our server instructed us to rub the perfume on our wrists, smell it and then begin to eat the dish. The aroma was light and flowery (neither one of us could identify the exact flower scent), but the combination of the smell with the cool acidity of the grapefruit and the spice of the ginger and the depth of the tarragon, all topped with black pepper foam (which was actually white) was a thoroughly inviting way to begin the meal. The combinations were all fresh, light and airy, and I felt a little like we were settling on a cloud. The dish was paired with Champagne, of course, which only enhanced our sense of delight and good feelings.

Next up: Yuba “Pappardelle” with soy milk, English peas, fava beans and leaves and flowers. The dish was a modern twist on the traditional dish of peas and cream sauce over pasta, but Patterson’s version was modernized using more healthy ingredients. Yuba—the skin from tofu—replaced the pasta and soy milk took the place of the cream. The peas were still peas, though they were very fresh and enhanced by the addition of fava beans and “leaves and flowers.” I suppose the dish actually was healthier than the traditional dish, but what struck me about it was the lovely lightness and freshness of the dish, which pleasantly evoked the season and excited my palate.

The third outstanding dish was the slow cooked farm egg farro stew, garden rosemary, parmesan. I thought this dish was an interpretation on eggs and grits. The egg, which had been slowly simmered in the shell for several hours and then cooked in the stew, was perfectly set on top of the stew. The farro stew was white in color, creamy, somewhat thick, rich, and both soft and warm. A light parmesan foam, with bits of rosemary, rested on top of the egg and the stew. The yolk of the egg mixed in with the stew, and combined with the rosemary and foam to make tasty and rich comfort food. It was the best dish of all the non-dessert courses.



Finally, the piece de resistance was the second dessert. On the menu, the second dessert was listed as a chocolate parfait, served with cucumber ice cream. Interesting, huh? The cucumber ice cream by itself was light and refreshing; the way that water infused with cucumbers is light and refreshing. The chocolate part of the dessert was made up of a thin chocolate wafer, which separated the ice cream from a thick, dense, rich bittersweet chocolate mousse. Separately, the ice cream and the chocolate mousse were terrific, but together they didn’t quite work. Chocolate and cucumbers do not naturally compliment each other. It was the only dish all night that left us disappointed.

I told our server that I didn’t think the two worked well together, and she told us that the cucumber and chocolate combination was new. She said that they used to pair the chocolate with foie gras ice cream. I almost lost it. I oooed and ahhhed, and I told her I thought foie gras ice cream and chocolate sounded like an amazing combination. I also asked if we could taste the ice cream. She said she’d check with the pastry chef. A few minutes later she returned to our table with one new plate of chocolate parfait, with foie gras ice cream. We tasted the ice cream alone and then with the chocolate, and both ways it was better than I had imagined. The ice cream was uber-buttery and rich. The taste was not so much of foie gras, per se, as more just intense, smooth, soft and rich (perhaps that is the taste of foie gras). How can you go wrong with triple fat ice cream? But, with the chocolate, the ice cream was so over-the-top and amazing, I honestly can barely describe the sensation of each of those bites. The richness and the buttery flavor of the ice cream set a platform for the chocolate to soar (sorry for the cheesy language, but that’s all that comes to mind). It was inspired. We ate every bite.

We both raved to the server, and I begged her, for the good of all foodies in the world, to persuade the pastry chef to return the ice cream to the menu. She told us that they had only recently removed the ice cream because so many Coi diners seemed slightly unsettled by the idea of foie gras ice cream and the wait staff had offered to make so many substitutions that the chef decided to pull it from the menu. Shameful. Judging from the reaction of people I’ve told about the ice cream, I’m beginning to understand why they took it off the menu. Even though I enthusiastically described the dish to several people, most of them looked at me with more or less blank stares or made comments of indifference. Oh well. Foie gras ice cream is a dessert that no restaurant will top. Wow. Before leaving the subject, I wanted to mention how the pastry chef came up with the idea (I was somewhat shocked I had never seen it before). Our server told us that he had been served a savory dish of foie gras with a drizzling of chocolate, and that led him to think of pairing chocolate and foie gras, with the foie gras in the form of ice cream. I thought it was brilliant.

Finally—I know this has turned into a long posting—the wines. The very enthusiastic sommelier made some bold and risky choices, and I’m not sure all of them worked. While many of his choices were inspired—the sake pairing for the Kampachi Sashimi and the sherry for the artichoke dish—but the Madeira which he paired with the leek terrine while a good pairing, made for an abrupt change from the wines and sake served immediately before it. Also, the Chenin Blanc, to which he added freshly squeezed lime juice and was paired with the yuba pappardelle, was underwhelming. As a Chenin Blanc fan, I would have preferred to taste the wine without the enhancement, but it was interesting trying it out. Also, he served a second Madeira with the chocolate, and while a good pairing, I would have preferred a port or another wine, especially after having a Madeira earlier in the meal. He was charming and fun, and I’m happy we accepted his experiments, but overall, I’m not sure they worked.

Despite my grumblings about a few of the wine pairings, I highly recommend Coi. Go now, before you can’t get in without waiting two months!

Easter Brunch Featuring: Malt Ball Cake!

I made brunch yesterday for a few friends. As is often the case, I had been fantasizing about the menu for several weeks.

I made eggs benedict with a twist. Instead of using ham or hollandaise, I drizzled creme fraiche (actually homemade mock creme fraiche) and crumbled smoked trout over homemade biscuits and poached eggs, topped with chopped green onions, chopped italian parsley and freshly ground black pepper. I served grilled asparagus on the side.



For the biscuits, I used Julia Childs's simple recipe for baking powder biscuits (1 cup of flour, 1/3 cup of vegetable shortening, 1 tablespoon baking powder, 1 teaspoon of salt and 1 cup of milk, mixed together, barely kneaded, brushed with butter and baked for 12 minutes at 425 degrees). The dough was very sticky, but the biscuits came out light, fluffy and delicious. I poached the eggs the night before, on the advice of Julia Child (for exactly four minutes) and heated them up the next morning (for only one minute in warm simmering water). Despite my worries, the eggs turned out well. The yolks were runny and yellow--perfect with the biscuits and trout.

But the focus of the brunch was a malt ball cake I made for dessert. Last December Food & Wine magazine published a photograph of a malt ball cake and named it as one of the upcoming tastes for 2007, but they did not print the recipe. I was dissappointed because the cake sounded good and I thought Lou might like it. I wrote a letter to the editor expressing my disappointment and asking them to print the recipe. Not long after I sent the letter via email, I got a response back from the assistant to the editor at Food + Wine asking if they could print my letter. I was thrilled and I gave her my permission. My short letter, along with the recipe, appeared in the March issue. The ironic thing is that when I told Lou about it he said he didn't think the cake sounded good at all. So much for me judging his tastes.

I had been thinking of the right time to make the cake since F+W published the recipe and the brunch seemed like a perfect occasion. I got it in my head to cover the cake with malt balls, and Lou and I decided to check out the malt ball selection at the new Miette Confiserie in Hayes Valley. Brad and Joey had told us about the new Miette last week, and I was eager to check it out. It's a beautiful store, and they had several jars of pastel malt balls on display for Easter. We were helped by Caitlin, one of the owners, and she made a helpful suggestion to crumble some malt balls up and add them as a layer to the cake. Brilliant!

I baked the cake on Saturday evening, and we assembled and decorated it later that night. I was skeptical about the recipe for the icing because it called for using 10 oz of milk chocolate, and no other cake I'd made before had called for using milk chocolate. I capitulated to the recipe and made it with the milk chocolate, and it turned out well despite my misgivings. Lou even said he thought it was the best icing he'd ever tasted.

After layering the cake and icing it thoroughly, we debated how to arrange the malt balls on the cake. After discussing various designs, including a big wave which would have run along the side with malt balls, we decided to create seven sections of different colors, in effect creating seven columns of colors around the cake. It worked. On top, we made five rows of different colors. We put it in the refrigerator to chill the icing, with hopes of fixing the malt balls in place.

After everyone had eaten on Sunday, we let the cake make its debut. We waited until the last minute to pull the cake out of the fridge, which in hindsight was a mistake because the cake was very cold and dense, but the dramatic debut was worth it. We served it with some homemade strawberry-balsamic ice cream (again, inspired by Joey and Brad who served us strawberry-balsamic ice cream from Bi-Rite Creamery the week before). Our ice cream was a little tangey since we more or less made up the recipe, using a 1/4 of balsamic vinegar. Nonetheless, it still made a nice compliment for the cake. The cake was moist and the malt balls enhanced the subtle malt flavor of the cake itself. We left the cake out after the brunch ended, and Lou and I thought the cake tasted even better as it warmed up (I've eaten at least four slices since!). It stikes me as odd, but the cake became even more moist as it came to room temperature, and the warming also unleashed the richness of the butter-cream icing. It would have been better served at room temperature on Sunday morning. Oh well.

After all was said and done, Lou loved the cake I had asked Food and Wine to publish for him.




UPDATE: Check out this posting about the brunch from one of our guests.

Making Pies

I've made several pies over the last few weeks. I first made a couple of rhubarb pies late last summer using Julia Childs's recipe for flakey pie dough. Her recipe is perfect, and if you follow her directions you can't screw up the dough. I tried making pie dough once later in the fall and it was a total disaster. The dough did not take and it never adhered. I now realize that I failed to use enough water to provide a base for the flour, butter and shortening to stick together. I'm embaressed to say that I think I used only a few teaspoons of water instead of the full cup of water called for in the recipe. Duh! Anyway, having made that mistake, I feel like I've now got the hang of it. I also learned to follow the recipe.

I made a couple of cherry pies in March, and then I made a strawberry-rhubarb pie on Saturday and a plain rhubarb pie on Sunday. I added some orange zest to the rhubarb pies, and I loved the hint of orange flavoring. The zest mellowed the tartness of the rhubarb, especially the less than fully ripened rhubarb I bought at the store. I served the pies with a sauternes, which pulled out the flavor of the orange zest in particular.

Here's a slice of the cherry pie.

Strawberry-rhubarb pie: filling, fresh from the oven and a slice with homemade vanilla bean ice cream.



And, the rhubarb pie--see the green, not-totally-ripened pieces of rhubard through the vents? It tasted amazing!