I have many favorite memories of living in Colorado in my youth, among them is peach season. The fruit orchards around the Western Slope town of Paonia produce some of the best peaches, apples, cherries, pears and plums in the world. At the time, we didn’t use the phrase or slogan of eating local, organic food, but we regularly did, and the peaches of September remain memorable to my palette.
And so it was on this final weekend of September, the yellow peach I bought a couple days ago had reached its zenith of ripeness, and lucky me, I had on hand fresh and organic spinach salad, some Burrata cheese that I had used to make a riff on eggplant Parma the other night, and assorted nuts. Because this was my mid-day meal, I boiled an egg to yield enough protein to get me through the day. The peach I ate with this splendid meal was from an unknown orchard. It may have been from Paonia though it is unlikely. Regardless I named the salad Paonia Peach and Burrata Salad in tribute to that place, and those memories, not to mention Paonia has a nice sound it, like LaPaloma, or Pay-ola. Besides, it’s my blog so I can call these dishes what I want. It was a working lunch for me so I didn’t drink wine with it, but if I served this lunch for a friend or lover, I would have opened a Chablis I have been drinking that I got earlier this summer from Kermit Lynch. The Chablis is a Vielles Vignes, 2018, from Roland Lavantureux.
Paonia Peach and Burrata Salad One serving
1.5 cups fresh spinach salad One small peach or half of one large peach, preferably organic and perfectly ripe 2 ounces or about 8 slices of good Burrata cheese One egg, hardboiled A couple splashes of The Ultimate Arugula Salad Dressing A small handful of raw pecans and walnuts Salt and white sugar Roasted sesame oil
Boil an egg and let cool.
In a small skillet, heat 1.5 Tablespoons of roasted sesame oil and toss in the nuts before the oil gets too hot. Stir them around so both sides/all sides of the nuts get a nice coating and roast until golden brown. One or two might get blackened. Don’t worry about it, but don’t overdo it, either.
Turn heat off before they are fully roasted, and add a little salt and little white sugar, then stir the nuts around and let cool.
Slice the peach and Burrata. Toss the salad, putting greens down on the plate first, then top with peach slices, cheese and nuts, in that order. I sliced the egg and lightly salted it and put that on the side of the salad. If you are at a picnic, enjoying some charcuterie or other meat, or want to feature this salad for dinner on a warm evening, skip the egg assuming you are serving some other protein, and enjoy!
I don’t remember where I got this recipe but if I had to guess it was Chef Eric Ripert, the French chef, author, television personality and to me, the most important part is that he is the Chef-owner of Le Bernardin, the only 3-star Michelin restaurant I have dined in. Located on 51t Street in New York City, I walked past it one evening while going to another place for a business cocktail reception. The reception was part of a real estate conference I had attended earlier in the day. I was in Manhattan for some media meetings and was heading to Philadelphia for another half-day conference the next day, then to Wilmington Delaware to stay with a good friend for a night or two. The reception was good, met people, had a couple cocktails and noshes, then walked right back to Le Bernardin about 8:30 and grabbed a seat at the bar. The bar seats only 7-8 people. I order the three-course tasting menu and started with an ahi tuna crudo.
The second course was very good. Thin slices of Hamachi tuna floating in a yummy sauce that had olive oil and citrus and something else!
The third course was the absolute winner: a surf n turf featuring a two ounce piece of Kobe beef with a roasted scallop and braised bok choy. It was the best damn piece of meat I’d ever had.
I asked the server if I could just have two more pieces of that beef. The request was so rare, apparently, that the next thing I knew the manager was standing by my side qualifying that I really wanted two more pieces of meat, because, and he lowered his voice for this, they were $80 apiece. I said, yes, and one more glass of that red wine please. The tab was over $400 (with two glasses of wine) and well worth it.
About that arugula salad dressing, it’s good with other lettuces but magical with arugula. Must be the bitterness of the arugula – some chemical reaction perhaps. I added two things to the recipe, the sugar and the dill. I just thought that would take a little of the bite out of it (the sugar) and I was right, and also the dill, to add an ever-so-slight herb flavor to the dressing. The key is the oil. I tried making this with olive oil when I didn’t have the sunflower oil. Nope!
The Ultimate Arugula Salad Dressing
½ cup Sunflower Oil ¼ cup red wine vinegar (slightly more) ¼ cup soy sauce (slightly less) 1.5 teaspoon Dijon mustard 1.5 Tablespoon minced shallot ½ teaspoon granular white sugar A few dashes of dried dill A few dashes of black pepper A pinch of finely ground sea salt, kosher salt, or a couple dashes of table salt from a salt shaker
We are in the midst of an international crisis, Coronavirus and COVID-19, and in mandatory “settle-in-place,” or required to stay home other than go to the bank and buy food, and walk. Just yesterday authorities even closed all county parks, because too many people were going there. That’s what sequestered at home will do to you. A friend, fearing an even greater lock down in San Francisco was about to be ordered, asked to come up for the weekend to escape the city. I went shopping and loaded up for options, and remembered a Wall Street Journal recipe for a lighter version of coq au vin that uses white instead of red wine. The recipe called for Sauvignon Blanc, a white I do not like, so I bought an inexpensive Chardonnay to have something to drink while cooking. It was a damn fine dish, with a couple pieces of bacon to enhance the flavor. The recipe did not call for celery but I added some to give the sauce texture. The recipe called for skin on, bone in thighs, and I am sure that would have been great, but my friend brought skinless and boneless breasts. I just adjusted the cooking time so the meat was moist, and it was. The Dijon mustard and tarragon, with copious amounts of sliced mushrooms, formed the flavor foundation of the meal. Instead of Crème Fraiche, which I didn’t have, I used sour cream to give the sauce a nice creaminess. My friends from Kermit Lynch were promoting some French wines a couple months ago and I bought a case of Morgon, a Rhone-style wine from the Beaujolais region of France between Lyon and Beaune, at the southern end of the official Burgundy region. The Morgon appellation is famous for deeply-coloured red wines from the Gamay grape. The wines are crafted exclusively in the small commune of Villie-Morgon. The wine paired beautifully with the chicken dish. It was a good meal in a cross-over season from winter to spring. The friendship and companionship was a treat. We had both been home alone for over a week. The next morning I thought about drinking that wine (I almost opened a second bottle – Jim Harrison would have approved) and resolved to go eat in France when this thing is over, this virus crisis. I’ve been to Paris twice and the Normandy coast up north. Earlier in this blog I wrote about dreaming of the South of France and drinking Rose. This is a sign, for sure. I must go there.
On my second trip to New Orleans and after totally enjoying
a sister restaurant of Pesce on the previous trip, I went to Pesce in the
Warehouse District. What struck me most about the food was the size of the Gulf
Oysters. I ordered six and only got through four of them. I sat at the back bar
where they shucked them and also prepared some other seafood dishes. But the
dish that wowed me the most were the Brussel Sprouts. They were tangy and a
little spicy and the flavor combination was made even better by blackening the
vegetables.
I was just in New Orleans again for a fundraising event on a
Foundation I serve, and two fellow Trustees, Bob, Sheldon and I, went to N7 for
a stellar meal. We had a side of blackened Brussel Sprouts. Delicious. I
mentioned the Pesce version of this dish to them and had to write it down once
I got home.
My version may not be as good as Pesce’s but it’s pretty
damn good. One thing to keep in mind: Brussel Sprouts are not very good left
over, so make what you plan to eat, be it for two, four or more. Thus I am only
posting the ingredients, not the portions.
Cast iron or cast iron-coated skillet (I have the later and
it works perfectly – a Le Creuset product, of course)
Brussel Sprouts
Oil (I use a blend of Canola and Olive so the
olive oil does not burn – you could also or simply just use peanut oil)
Mongolian Fire Oil
Red Wine Vinegar
Butter
Salt
Par-steam the sprouts but don’t overdo it … keep them firm.
Heat the oil combination in skillet until super-hot – like make-a-mess
of the cooktop hot.
Dump the Brussels in and start turning them with a wooden
spatula or similar tool. After you mixed them evenly with the oils, let them settle
in place so they start to blacken.
If you have not already, this will be the time you turn on
the oven fan.
Turn sprouts occasionally until evenly blackened. Once I add
them to the skillet, they are blackened in about 10 minutes – so maybe 3 or 4 turns.
Sprinkle the red wine vinegar evenly around the skillet and
turn the skillet off.
Add salt (don’t add while cooking – you risk making them too
salty).
Stir the vegetables around so the vinegar is mixed well.
Add the butter. Stir more. Serve.
In terms of main dishes and other sides, since the Brussel
Sprouts have such bold flavors, I like this dish to be the star of the meal. I
might make rice or mashed potatoes and roast a chicken breast (bone-in, skin
on), or roast salmon for the protein. You get the idea. Salad is always an
option to add to any meal.
It’s a great meal – when you can’t get to New Orleans.
Back in July 2017 I posted a piece on the most essential
cooking item in my kitchen – anyone’s kitchen, in my view. And to back that
opinion up, I just bought a second 3.5-quarter Le Creuset braiser, though not
for me. My niece Lisa is getting married the week after 4th of July
week. Mark apparently is a cook. It’s the most versatile piece in my arsenal.
This is one of my favorite meals using the braiser, and it is so easy!
6 large or 8 small bone- in, skin-on chicken
thighs
2-3 lemons, cut up in quarters
¾ cup Castellano green olives
One-half of a large yellow onion or one small
whole onion
One-half to three-quarter cup of chicken or
vegetable stock
Seasoning
Pre-heat oven to 400
Rinse and dry the chicken, season with salt and pepper and
dry sage and/or finely crushed rosemary
Put a little peanut oil in the bottom of the braiser and
wipe the surface with a paper towel, which will help prevent the chicken from
sticking to the bottom
Once the oven is hot, put the chicken pieces, skin side UP,
in the braiser and make sure they are not touching
Roast for 20 minutes, turn oven down to 350 and roast
another 10 minutes
Remove from oven, take chicken out of the pot and put on a
platter
Put the diced onions in the pot and use a spatula to pick up
any of the meat bits from the chicken, but leave them in with the onions and
swirl the onions around
Place the chicken pieces still skin side up on top of the
onions
Pour the stock in so the entire bottom is covered, but the
chicken skins remain above the stock line – very important to get crispy skin!
In between the chicken pieces put the lemon wedges and green
olives
Return pot to oven and roast another 30 minutes, then turn
oven off
Remove the Le Creuset 5 or 10 minutes later and serve.
I like crusty bread with this dish but rice is wonderful if
you prefer.
Goes well with a crisp Chardonnay, Pinot or burgundy wine.
Whatever you are in the mood for, really.
There’s a restaurant here in Marin County called Bacon. It’s probably not the only one in the U.S. I attended a conference once on Amelia Island off the coast of Jacksonville, Florida, and must have been assigned one of the last available hotel rooms because I was right next to the kitchen. And every morning I woke up to the aroma of bacon cooking. I did not mind.
After I bought a house I hired a gardener to keep the property clean. We have something of a wild garden and plants grow profusely. We also have big trees, lots of them. Oaks, a Tri-Colored Beech, Dogwoods. We had a Persimmon tree but it died of old age. It was about 100. After a while Fernando and I became friendly enough for me to ask him if his wife made green chile. It’s my favorite Mexican dish. He told me no, his wife did not make green chile pork, but his mother did. I handed him a $20 and asked if he could bring me a serving of green chile the next time he came to clean up my property. He did, and this routine kept up for about a year. But then I let the gardening crew go, figuring I had better start doing more physical work myself to stay fit. That’s when I decided it was time to make green chile at home.
It’s not that daunting of a dish. You just need the right
tools. Namely, a big ass Le Creuset. I’ve written about Le Creuset earlier in
this blog. I have about 12 of the vessels in various shapes and sizes. This is
the big boy at work, my 9-quart pot. I have a 6-quart version in blue that is
excellent for roasting a 3-4 pound chicken with halved onions and whole
carrots. I’ll make green chile, aka “pulled pork” with the 6-quarter Le Creuset
or even my 5-quart (in orange!) pot if the pork shoulder and butt I buy is only
three or four pounds. But when the chunk of meat is seven+ pounds, I need the
big boy.
The second key to making this dish is having enough fresh,
rough-chopped garlic on hand, and two, not one, yellow onion.
The third key to green chile – for the flavor profile I like, is a good amount of dried Mexican oregano. I added almost a half of couple to the fried onions and garlic. But first you brown the meat. Set the oven at 450, added a third of a cup of vegetable oil to the bottom of the pot and sprinkle that with either chile powder or cayenne pepper, the latter of which I did with this dish. Make sure the meat is dried off before putting it fat-side down on top of the oil and cayenne. Season the top of the pork shoulder with copious amounts of ground cumin, black pepper and garlic powder before placing it in the oven to roast, for about 40 minutes.
After the meat browns, extract the meat from the pot and put
it on a large platter. This is no easy task, as the meat is huge and you don’t
want to pierce it. I used a large metal spoon and large metal spatula to get
the meat out of the pot. Turn the oven down to 325. Then cook the onions and
garlic. Once the onions soften, I added two or three pasilla peppers and one
diced jalapeno or fresno chile – whichever I have on hand. I also add smoked
paprika as this phase of the cooking.
Once the vegetables are mixed well together, add the meat
back to the pot and pour any juices from the platter on top of the meat. Add
two cups of chicken stock, put the lid on tight and put the Le Creuset in the
oven. After 90 minutes or so, turn the oven down to 200 and let it cook another
90 minutes. The meat will be fork tender.
We’ll normally have a meal when this dish is done. Just take
a flour tortilla, smear a little chile-mayo on the bottom, a handful of
arugula, some shredded meat with juices on top of that, plus a very light
serving of grated cheddar cheese to enjoy a soft-shell taco.
The rest of the meat, vegetables and juices I pack in
multiple containers, one of which I freeze and is mostly just the meat. That
meat will come in handy a couple of weekends from now when I invite friends
over for Cubano Sandwiches. That’s the pulled pork in the Cubanos.
The container I pack with most of the peppers will be a
dinner in a few nights, with sticky white rice and a side of chayote squash and
carrots boiled and finished in a little bit of butter. A big and hearty
Zinfandel pairs well with this meal.
I got stuck in Fort Lauderdale an extra day after Hurricane Harvey disrupted travel through Houston for a couple of weeks. I never travel through Houston to get to the East Coast, but somehow booked that flight for an event I needed to attend in South Florida.
But in the spirit of making lemonade out of lemons, it just
meant I had a full day to myself on at the beach, at the pool and at some of
the local places along beach boulevard (not its real name). It was a Saturday
and I prided myself for making it all the way to 3 pm before my first cocktail
of the day – a couple of Mojitos with an okay serving of coconut shrimp at Café
Ibiza. I went into Café Ibiza because of fond memories of staying nearby on
Mallorca years ago. The days and nights in Banalbufar remain one of my favorite
holidays. Besides, back in Fort Lauderdale, the other choice was a Hooter’s.
The night before my friends Ken and Melissa took me to
B&B Oyster Bar where the oysters we excellent. We knocked back a sampler
dozen before finding our favorite, then ordered a dozen of those. I wasn’t
taking notes and can’t remember the oyster names but they were good, East Coast
bivalves.
Back home, I went to Cucina in town on one of those nights that neither of us felt like cooking. Look at this salad. It’s mouth-watering, with awesome ingredients: Arugula, ripe peach, burrata cheese, dry-aged Spanish ham, with “lemon-zest dressing.” OMG it was uneatable! My mouth puckered with each bite, it was so lemony. I don’t think you could have had a more lemony experience even if you bit straight into a lemon. I at the fruit and ham and left the salad.
A week later I was on another plane, this time to Southern
Cal to take my father, sisters, brother-in-law and niece out to dinner to
celebrate Dad’s 95th day on this earth. We went to an Italian place
in a strip mall that is popular with the locals. The bruschetta and steak
tartare were good starters. My niece had the best dish I think – Chilean sea
bass with artichoke hearts and black olives. I went with gnocchi because the
book on this place is that it’s real Italian food. Meh!
Ordering gnocchi is always risky. The worst part of the
restaurant was the portions. They were huge. Everyone leaving the restaurant
had to go packages. I left that program for the small-plate revolution years
ago!
Two days later, however, I met a foodie friend from the media for lunch in downtown Carlsbad. Plan A didn’t work out – closed for lunch on Mondays, but Plan B – Compass, was no slouch! The Hamachi crudo topped with a smidge of avocado, pinch of orange and fresno chile slice was sublime. So was the bacon-wrapped dates served with a creamy goat cheese and arugula. The white truffle oil fries with aioli called for a cold beer, but I was working that afternoon and stuck with a single glass of pinot noir.
Back home a few days later I had lunch with a new
professional colleague at Farmshop in Larkspur. I had been there before and
recalled the quality – for its modern food and freshness. I was not
disappointed on this visit.
The avocado hummus was richly creamy and flavorful, great with the house-made whole wheat pita bread and a glass of Rose. I dreamt of the South of France and a hammock after lunch after drinking an entire bottle of the pink wine. Is there anything better than Rose with lunch on a warm day?
My new colleague is on a “paleo” diet with protein, fat and vegetables with little fruit and no gluten. She order the steamed chicken breast salad with boiled egg and lettuce. It looked yummy. I absolutely had to have the crispy artichokes with burrata cheese, castelvetrano olives, stonefruit and harissa spiced walnuts. Easily, this was one of the best dishes of the year.
The short rib at Nobu in New York City is also a top 10 for 2017. We were there in August to kick off the college tours. We go to Nobu every time we’re in New York. Why not?
Steven Rednikowski made a name for himself as a chef in Boulder, CO, with Oak at fourteenth. His new place in Denver, Acorn, is located in the 1880’s foundry that’s been converted to a high-end food court, or “epicurean marketplace” in Denver’s emerging hipster neighborhood, River North District. I found this place after doing some research on Denver’s burgeoning food scene, and Denver.eater.com put Acorn squarely in its “Essential Restaurant” listing, citing the eatery for its “hottest new American cuisine.”
His website describes the style of food as “eclectic,
contemporary American cooking in an approachable, family-friendly format.” The
final phrase of that description, “family-friendly format,” is code for small
plates, shared plates etc. And the food is fucking good!
Rednikowski is no overnight sensation. The resume – started
in the business at 15 in a local pizzeria in Upstate New York, graduated to a
culinary school in Schenectady, NY, moved to the City and landed a gig in 2000 at
Le Cirque, followed by a stint at three Michelin-starred, Jean Georges. After
that he moved west in 2002, first with a job at Little Nell in the iconic
Aspen, CO, before taking an irresistible job in the Boulder, CO kitchen Frasca
Food and Wine when Executive Chef and Co-Owner Lachlan Mackinnon-Patterson
opened that restaurant. Staying in Colorado continuously was not in the cards
at the time for Rednikowski. Instead, in 2006 he moved to Napa, CA to work
under Chef Douglas Keane at the two-Michelin-starred Cyrus restaurant, only to
return to Aspen two years later for the Executive Sous Chef job at Little Nell
Hotel.
Rednikowski had met his Acorn business partner, Bryan
Dayton, when the two were paired up at Frasca in Boulder and Dayton was
managing the bar. In 2010 the duo got their dream jobs as owners, when they
opened Oak to rave reviews and critical acclaim. Central to their food concept
was an oak-wood fired oven and grill – a kitchen tool that is prominently
featured at Acorn, which opened in 2013.
To this diner, the nearly 4 years since opening Acorn has
served Rednikowski and Dayton very well, as my visit to Acorn one warm night in
early July was a flawless evening of eating and drinking.
Flying solo, I sat at the bar, of course. Yet before sitting I checked out the vast interior of the old Foundry. A Mexican restaurant is across the way from Acorn. Some guys that had success with a food truck made the switch to a full-service place. There’s a bar in the back of the building – lots of craft beer, as expected. Craft beer may be the only “boutique” industry in Colorado that is bigger than marijuana. There’s a butcher shop, wine bar, charcuterie store. There were also young people making some sort of ice cream sandwich toward the front the building when I was there.
In addition to the “bar bar,” where I sat, there is a “chef’s bar” where the line cooks work, and the aforementioned oak-fired oven and grill resides.
In keeping with the theme of ‘craft beer’ for more spirited
types, the bar did not have the usual kind of vodkas I drink – mainstream
brands. But it did have a locally made vodka that naturally caught my eye,
called Woody Creek. The last place I lived in the Aspen area was a mostly
finished solar house on 4 acres on Little Woody Week, and I was neighbors with
the gonzo journalist, Hunter S. Thompson. I ordered the Woody Creek double on
the rocks with a splash of soda, NFL – my new standard (No Fucking Lime, No
Fucking Lemon). If the vodka is any good, let’s taste it!
From my seat at the bar, I looked past the bartenders to a little outdoor patio and a nice sunset right around 9 pm. This industrial zone is undergoing a lot of construction – mostly loft-style apartments. This is a new hotel being built next to the Source.
The night I was there, Acorn offered 18 small plate dishes. Immediately, I recognized the problem with dining alone at a place like this – I would only be able to sample 3 or 4 of these yummy nibbles. One item fairly leapt at me off the menu, which I knew I would start with, whereas I studied the rest of the menu over my cocktail, using the process of elimination to decide what might be my second, third, and fourth (if I had room) plates for dinner.
I started with the Hamachi Crudo (Hamachi Crudo – passion
fruit vinaigrette, avocado, cucumber, Fresno pepper, cilantro), with a second
cocktail. The cold vodka paired well with this dish, which was perfect in so
many ways. The fish was very fresh, avo just right, acidity and snap from the Fresno
chili in complete harmony – and the portion was amazingly generous. No skimping
on core ingredients here. And for a California dude, the price of this dish, at
$14, was difficult to get over. Back home in San Francisco, this plate would
have easily sold for $26, maybe $28.
Noshing on the crudo, I “eliminated” the Key West royal red ‘shrimp
& grits’, the oak smoked pork posole, the smoked trout sandwich, the smoked
brisket sandwich (on a brioche bun) and the buttermilk fried chicken sandwich. I
was really tormented by not ordering the crispy Icelandic cod, which looked as
if it was prepared with Vietnamese influence, my favorite flavors (nuoc cham,
napa cabbage, toasted peanuts, mint, cucumbers).
And I’m still made at myself for not starting with the
crispy fried pickles with green goddess aioli. For $5, and no doubt delicious
with vodka & soda, I could not have gone wrong. How often in life will you
get a chance to eat a crispy fried pickle? Plus I would have had some insight
as to what was to come with Chef Red’s food – cucumbers and its cousin, pickles.
They appeared frequently, usually unexpectedly.
So for the second plate, I went with a vegetarian dish, grilled eggplant.
It was out of sight, as we used to say in the groovy years.
The eggplant was meaty, slightly smoky and perfectly
grilled. It actually ate like a steak, and for my first few bites that’s what I
focused on. And who knew, that pickle chips would contrast so nicely with
grilled eggplant, not to mention the crispy Papadum crackers from the Indian
subcontinent. This was all good, but the real wow factor came into play when I
got below the eggplant to the quinoa with Kalamata olive oil, the tzatziki
(yogurt-based) and the slightly creamy goat feta, which was accented by the
Chermoula (the reddish sauce to the right of the plate), a slightly tangy marinade
typically used by cooks in Algeria, Libya, Morocco and Tunisia. The chilled
rose (Gerard Boulay, a Sancerre Rose from the Loire Valley, $12) I drank with
this dish was as good a complement as Bonnie Parker was to Clyde Barrow, though
I was optimistic that my story would not end as badly as theirs did.
By the time I finished the second plate, I had decided that
the past hour or so was one of the most pleasurable 60 minutes of the year so
far, with over 5 months to go!
While my appetite may have been sated with these first two courses, I was hungry for more. And I could not pass up the braised lamb, since braising meat is probably my favorite way to eat pork (shoulder/butt), beef (ribs) and lamb, especially in winter when you can pair these foods with creamy polenta, risotto and mashed potatoes.
(Olive oil braised lamb leg – fruition farms crispy ricotta, English peas, pea shoots, pecorino, mint)
This dish was good – solid from start to finish, with a light and tasty sauce (from the melted ricotta) that called for a piece of bread to sop up (the bartender gladly obliged, bringing a side a toast though I only used half a slice). The lamb was tender, as expected, and the peas very fresh – as if it were still Spring and I was, in fact, in England. I drank a Terrazas Malbec, $15 from Mendoza, Argentina, thus proving that one can survive a great meal without a single California wine.
The lamb dish was delicious, though not as distinctive as my
first two plates.
I might have ordered a fourth dish but I had an early
morning with a train to catch for Aspen by 8 o’clock. As my 90+ year old father
still says, “the best exercise you can do to keep the weight off is push
yourself away from the table.”
And so I did, vowing to come back to Denver or better yet,
go up to Boulder to eat Chef Rednikowski’s food again.
Nothing beats a good BLT, but a great sandwich is always
made with great bread, so I have had a BLT or two that were just ok. Plus the
thing about BLTs is that the tomato makes up a third of its core ingredients,
and tomatoes can be pretty iffy in terms of quality. They are subject to
seasonality, locations etc. Now there is this: The Avocado, Bacon &
Cucumber sandwich.
I had open-faced ABCs last night watching TV. I smashed up a half of avocado in a bowl, squeezed a little lime juice, and added a few dashes of hot sauce and salt. I used small slices of thin-sliced, very good sour dough. I didn’t use or need mayo, putting the avo down first, then the bacon, then thin-sliced standard cucumbers.
I made an enclosed sandwich by finishing the bacon, using the thin-sliced sourdough, smashed avo and cucumber. Today, however, I did use a light amount of mayo on both pieces of bread and also spiked the sandwich with torn up pieces of pepperoncini. Great ABC!
It’s starts in Silicon Valley, goes south on Hwy. 101 to
Paso Robles, then over to the coast on Hwy. 46 to Cambria, then north on Hwy. 1
through Big Sur and into Carmel. It’s that beautiful and varied, from the
ranchlands and vineyards of interior California to the sea… just gorgeous.
Everyone should be able to do this drive at least once in their lifetime.
Paso Robles should not be confused with Central California.
Paso’s valley – indeed the 101 valley, includes the famed Salinas Valley in
Monterey County that is north of Paso. The St. Lucia (coastal) mountains
separate the coast from this valley on the west, and to the east is another
range of low-lying mountains – I’ll have to look it up but I think it is called
the Diablo Range, and east of that is the Central Valley.
Without explaining our business in Paso for now, I can tell
you that the food scene is alive and well there. Our timing was off to try the best
know restaurant in Paso Robles – Bistro Laurent, which was the first high-end
restaurant to open in Paso Robles years ago when the region’s wine country
began to be recognized for what it is – one of the best places to grow grapes
and make wine in the world. So revered is Bistro Laurent’s reputation
(French-inspired cuisine) that even though we didn’t try a morsel of Chef
Laurent’s food, it deserves to be mentioned here. We were there on Sunday and
Monday nights and the brick-building restaurant on the southwest corner of the
square is open Tuesdays through Saturdays.
We arrived in Paso shortly after 1 pm on the Sunday in which
the NBA Final Game 7 was to be played, starting around 5 pm. We spent the
afternoon touring the local real estate market with a delightful Realtor
originally from Pittsburgh PA, Wendy. It was 100 degrees and by the time we got
to our hotel – the unbelievably perfect Hotel Cheval (in so many ways!), we
were dying for cool showers and to get out of sweat-soaked clothes we worn
looking at real estate. We watched the first half of the game wrapped in bath
towels while the AC brought our temperatures down. We watched the second half
of the game in the hotel bar sipping lightly chilled Rose with a few other
guests. When the Warriors completed their historic collapse by losing the last
three games of a final (a first!) and the Cleveland Cavaliers were crowned
champions, it was dinnertime. While I nonchalantly proclaimed “it’s only a
game,” inside I was deeply disappointed with the outcome of the series. And
thirsty for a real cocktail.
We stopped at a bar on the way to Artisan where I knocked
back a couple of double vodka sodas on ice.
So despondent was I actually from our team blowing the
championship that I uncharacteristically lost my appetite. Not completely, but
mostly. Over the years there been have championship series’ that I got
passionate about – some of the epic Lakers-Celtics series in the 1980s, a Super
Bowl here and there, the 2004 World Series when Boston ended Beantown’s 86-year
drought.
At Artisan, she ordered the Hangar Steak with potatoes and bone marrow jus. We shared a green salad with local cheddar (light, somewhat creamy for a cheddar, delicious), honey mustard and oddly, a granola topping (but it worked, for texture). All I had was a simple small plate – Dungeness crab slider with pancetta and quail egg. The bread was an English muffin made at the restaurant, a very good call as the bread was sturdy enough to hold the moist ingredients together without a bunch of bread getting in the way of the featured ingredient, crab (which I was remiss in not asking where the crustacean was nabbed from the sea). The pancetta gave the pure, shredded and lightly seasoned crab meat with just enough of an accent flavor and the quail egg gave the sandwich a decadence as well as richness and subtle moisture without using mayonnaise. It was a great start to a superb week of eating.
The Hatch
The Hatch Rotisserie & Bar
Wendy the Realtor had recommended The Hatch Rotisserie &
Bar and when we asked people at the hotel about it, they heartily reinforced
Wendy’s recommendation. We went there on a Monday night after 5 hours of wine
country touring and tasting at four wineries in 100 degree weather (not
recommended!). In between the splendid afternoon and dinner, however, we took
cool showers and a three hour nap at the Hotel Cheval. We arrived at The Hatch
hungry.
For starters we shared the Grilled Caesar and Pork Belly,
the latter of which was glazed with a blackberry “mostarda” whatever that is
and it was yummy. For entre we shared another starter, the Cold Beans salad
with Haricot verts, wax beans, roasted shallot vinaigrette, fennel, cucumber
and parmesan. I rarely leave unfinished food at a restaurant but both salads
were huge and I could not finish it. For protein, while the lady had seriously
eyed the Farro & Roasted vegetables with Heirloom farro, burrata, sweet
peppers, asparagus and fava beans with lemon vinaigrette, we settled on their
roast chicken. The nameplate at the door does include the word rotisserie,
after all.
The chicken was very good and served with house-made
buttermilk dip and hot sauce, a good thing because the breast was dry. We make
such good chicken at home (read the next blog, please), particularly
whole-roasted bird, that we rarely order chicken out. Yet these days we’re
trying to cut back on the beef and knowing that we were heading to the coast
the next day for three nights and would likely eat from the sea mostly, we went
for the chicken. I contend that no one can perfectly cook the breasts and the thighs
in one dish. When I make roasted chicken, I remove the bird from the oven, cut
away the thighs and legs and finish them in the oven while the body of the bird
with all the white meat and wings rests before carving. That’s that.
I would still go to The Hatch again when in Paso Robles and highly recommend it. I didn’t get the chef’s name but looking at the menu now online and having been there and seen it (marvelous interior – brick wall, clean, simple, good lighting, and great wine list), you can tell that they get it and make good food. Some of the items I would have liked to have tried include Shrimp & Grits (with a smoked sausage side option), Harissa-Rubbed Tri Tip, Ramen with house-made Miso Broth, and the Crawfish Boil. We left Paso Robles after shopping at the local Walmart for me to buy some tank tops. I had not brought any from home and had not anticipated the blistering heat. It was 102 when we left Paso around 1 pm and the temperature would rise another couple degrees before it started tapering for the day. An hour later we were walking the tourist strip of Morro Bay in marine-shielded sun and a lovely 68 degrees. We popped into a forgettable restaurant for large, cold Sapporo beers and a side order of fried calamari. Before heading north for Cambria we drove over to the base of the Rock. If you’ve never been, it’s impressive, as if a giant rock fell out of the sky one day and happened to land on an otherwise flat beach. I am sure geologists have a logical explanation for this:
At the beach there was a warning sign about the rough surf
and tides that is a classic: “Drowning is an once-in-a-lifetime experience.”
In Cambria we settled into our OK lodging for the next few
days, El Colibri. It is on Moonstone Beach which further north has many smaller
places of lodging and a few restaurants with ocean views. This section of town
has a boardwalk that parallels the road (which in turn parallels the 101) and
the boardwalk meanders along the cliff that is a few hundred feet above a rough
and hardly trammeled beach. I took off on the mile or two walk to the end of
Moonstone Beach to have some cocktails while the lady rested.
One of the beachside restaurants is locally famous and so
popular that they demand and get away with their payment policy: cash only. The
Seafood Chest reminds me of the Chart House in the 1980s – all the fish is
lightly broiled and slathered with butter and lemon. How original! But the
tourists love it and keep coming back for more. On our second night in town we
decided to give it a try, lest we be snobs. We let the early birds and people
that dine at “regular hours” do their early thing and got there in time to
watch the sunset around 8:30, then walked in to get a table. We were told it
would be about 90 minutes.
Fortunately, earlier that day after touring the Hearst
Castle (amazing) we stopped at the Hearst Ranch winery in the little hamlet of
San Simeon, which is right at the base of the road that leads to the Castle, to
do a little tasting. My traveling companion is always good about asking locals
for local information, including the question (that starts with a statement): “you
live here, where do you go out to eat, and where do the locals go?” The guy
pouring wine gave us a couple of names of in-town restaurants (vs. the strip of
coast where we stayed). This information came in handy as we took a pass on
what I labeled “Corporate Seafood” when told we had a 90 minute wait for a
table.
Finding The Black Cat Café was easy enough and out of the 20
or so tables with white linen covers, only a handful were occupied. It’s too
bad I couldn’t text all the people waiting for a table at Corporate Seafood,
because they missed out on some great food. The Black Cat has a menu that
appeals to locals and tourists alike and you could go there several times of
month and not tire of it. In fact, I wished I could go several times because there
were so many appealing choices – from the entrees alone: Maple Leaf duck
breast, Bella-Sage Farm braised rabbit, chicken or shrimp piccata, chipotle
shrimp linguine and wild caught salmon, to name a few.
My dining companion had stuffed pork chop with fontina cheese (pictured below).
Stuffed pork chop with fontina cheese
Two items on the menu had my attention from the start – sea
scallops and rare seared albacore tuna, the latter of which appealed to me more
so for its accompaniment that just the fish itself. I am a sucker for anything
that starts with “Vietnamese,” as in “Vietnamese cucumber slaw, shitake,
ginger, wasabi cream, shallots, peanuts, cilantro served with jasmine rice.
For as accomplished of a home chef that I am and student of food, I can’t cook scallops to save my proverbial life. It is one of those dishes that I just can’t pull off. I’ve tried brining them in milk, roasting them, sautéing them, you name it. It all turned into cat food, and we don’t even have a cat. So when I see them on the menu at a good restaurant, I want them. Our food server and the chef were gracious to make the Vietnamese dish and replace the tuna with the scallops. By far, this was the best meal of the trip.
My former wife, as was often her habit, wanted to meet the
chef.
On a different trip — in Madrid (Spain), the day we arrived
after flying the red eye from New York, we unpacked at our hotel, showered and
went for a walk to get on local time. We ended walking near Retiro Park and
looking for food, walked down a street to find Casona Retiro, which was open
but with hardly any patrons. The food was so good we still talk about that
meal. At the end of lunch (the last plate was chicken wings with a hunk of the
breast still attached in a butter tarragon sauce) my wife asked to meet the
chef. A big black guy with a gap between his two main upper teeth came out to
meet us. After that I never set any expectations when meeting chefs in
restaurants where we eat.
Back in “downtown” Cambria, Chef Mauricio came out to say
hello upon the request for us to thank him in person for a wonderful meal. It
turns out he is not only the chef, but also the owner. Mauricio is a
Mexican-American, presumably legal, who worked in California restaurants
starting when in his teens. He went to the Culinary Academy of America in Napa,
so his skills were honed by hours of hours of work and formal training. I’m
always curious how people manage the business side of restaurants so I asked
Chef Mauricio if he had used a small business loan to buy the restaurant. “No,”
he said, “just savings.” America is truly a great country.
