ever since the new york times posted its definitive recipe for chocolate chip cookies, i've been meaning to do a taste test between those and our trusty standby, toll house. we all know i'm a sucker for taste tests; the best ones that come to mind include the shaws whole chicken v. chinatown whole chicken (the chinatown chicken tasted surprising like a chinatown chicken you would get in a restaurant, which was really surprising to me) and the apple pie taste test, after which i swore off cinnamon in apple pies.
so, gristedes. i had decided to do three batches of chocolate chip cookies, since the gimmick of the new york times recipe lies in both proportions of sugar/flour/butter and also in how long the dough is chilled. the three batches are then: (1) the new york times recipe; (2) toll house, chilled as long as the ny times recipe; and (3) toll house, chilled the normal amount (about an hour, until the dough is firm enough to use). i went to gristedes to get ingredients, assuming that a supermarket would definitely have all of the ingredients i needed for my experiment. (because that's what this is, folks: a geeky experiment. so sue me.) of course, i was wrong, and this is why gristedes makes me hate new york. because they don't carry the chocolate chips i use in chocolate chip cookies, which is not an exotic brand and is basically carried in every other grocery store known to man. the brand, incidentally, is simply ghirardelli 60% bittersweet chips. i like the size and shape of these chips in particular - they're chubbier, and a little bigger and flatter, so they're more pleasing to the eye and consequently make them more attractive to eat. kind of like the way that arborio rice is more pleasing to me to eat than basmati rice.
gristedes: you cost me a day, and my curiosity has increased accordingly as time has elapsed. i'd like to point out that whole foods did not disappoint me, and that i was able to procure my non-exotic chocolate chips there. technically, the ny times recipe calls for feves, which are the flat chocolate disks sold with all of the bulk chocolate, but i didn't really have that much faith in my ability not to break them when stirring them into the dough, so i just used regular chocolate chips.
so right now, two bags of chocolate chip cookie dough are slowly chilling in the fridge. the rationale is that the liquid ingredients absorb better into the dough with a longer chilling period, which i know to be true: the buckwheat cocoa nib cookies require overnight chilling because they consist of flour, butter, sugar, and cocoa nibs. you have to wait for the dough to get to the right consistency or it won't bake correctly. i'm curious to see just how much of a difference it makes, since i often chill my dough for up to 12 hours anyway, so that the butter doesn't melt too fast when you bake the cookies. for some reason, i find chocolate chip cookies with really flat edges to be kind of unappetizing. i don't really know why, and i know it's weird, but that's just the way it is.
my initial thoughts are that the doughs really are significantly different. the ny times recipe has more flour per tablespoon butter than the toll house recipe - you could tell with the two doughs that the toll house recipe was a lot goopier and harder to handle than the ny times recipe. i wonder if i should have used the typical brown sugar that i use - just dark instead of light - because the dough looked really pale to me, too. the last batch of chocolate chip cookies i made were at s+l's place, and i made those with billington's dark brown sugar, since that's what i'd bought at the supermarket (not a gristedes). they were a rather pleasing golden brown; using dark brown sugar definitely helps color-wise. i also happen to like the flavor of dark brown sugar, which is especially nice since i don't use vanilla extract. i can only stand to use real vanilla beans these days - i've discovered that i don't really like the flavor of vanilla extract, and that i don't want to obscure the flavor of sugar and butter with the vanilla.
well, that's about it. i'll report back about how the cookies turn out tomorrow.
30 juillet 2008
27 juillet 2008
per se: on being jaded
i've just returned from a lovely, languorous lunch at per se. initially i had doubts that i even wanted to try to go to per se; after all, i've been to the french laundry, and it seems that the two are not particularly different (especially given thomas keller's extreme attention to detail). to me it has always seemed that per se is just the east coast outpost of the original. if i had to choose a place to go where it's hard to get reservations, it would probably be momofuku ko. (a note on reservations: did i just luck out when i called babbo to make a reservation? i mean, i guess it's a wednesday, but it's at a convenient time and everything. i suppose it was three weeks later than i had been thinking to make the reservation.)
as fate would have it, one of jessica's friends managed to get a lunch reservation. then they had someone drop out of their party of four, and voila, suddenly i was going to go to lunch at per se. why the sudden change of heart? well, at the end of the day, i really was curious to see if per se is different from the french laundry. and i also wanted to hang out with jessica, since i hadn't seen her in a while. for those who are wondering how i can justify that much on one dinner, well, i really do enjoy eating food that is interesting and prepared with impeccable technique. much as i like to believe i'm a good cook, i'm really just a good home cook - i've got nothing on these four-star restaurants. and i know enough about food to know when the kitchen is doing something really spectacular, and with every posh dinner i've had (about once a year), it has been worth it. i think that what i'm getting out of the dinner is more than just food; it's the opportunity to see what someone else is thinking about food: what it is, what it should be, and how you should eat it. i love high-concept food when it delivers, when a chef is thinking about a certain problem and that a particular dish is the solution to that problem.
so, lunch. per se is rather nouveau riche with respect to interior design. it's as if the interior designer made a list of all of the different styles and objects that were of interest, and then just threw them all together in the restaurant without any restraint. there are all-glass tables, french-style blue doors, walls made of rough-hewn stone, a reception desk that's a chrome spiral, a glassed-in wine cellar...you name the style, per se has it. still, i do always love a restaurant with padded armchairs, as if you're in someone's very posh living room, or are going to spend a while at the restaurant (or all of the above) - it automatically makes me feel like lingering.
we all got the chef's tasting menu, and shared a bottle of navarro vineyards' gewürztraminer juice (yeah, it's nonalcoholic - it's made from the same grapes as the vineyard uses to make wine, but it's not fermented). so there you have the basics, and now i'll do my rambling recounting of lunch by course and random musing.
to start, we had the traditional thomas keller amuse bouche: gougeres and the marinated salmon cones. i could have sworn that the gougeres i had at the french laundry were hollow; the ones at per se had some sort of creamy, cheesy filling that had obviously just been piped into the gougeres. they were lovely, as usual, and the filling was really wonderful. the marinated salmon cones sparked copycats all over the country, but are always fun and tasty. the cone is a savory tuile that has black sesame seeds in it, and is filled with creme fraiche and topped with a small ball of marinated salmon ... paste? it's not exactly a paste or puree, since the salmon is raw; it's just...ground as if it had been ground by an ant-size meat grinder. this actually kind of grossed me out the first time i had it, because it's a familiar shape that causes me to expect a certain flavor - ie, sweet - to come with it when i eat it. it's also a little weird to be eating cured salmon as a puree. but this time i wasn't fazed at all, for some reason. it's interesting, too, to see the same ingredients in a dish at alinea, but with a preparation that's totally different - grant achatz does frozen creme fraiche topped with shaved frozen salmon, topped with a chive stem that you use to pick the whole thing up with. so it's the same ingredients, but the preparation totally changes the way they taste.
"oysters and pearls" (sabayon of pearl tapioca with island creek oysters and sterling white sturgeon caviar)
this first course is a gold standard of thomas keller's repertoire, and for good reason - it's consistently fantastic. the sabayon is creamy, the caviar is salty, and the oysters are divine. also, it's fun to eat with a caviar spoon. let's revisit those oysters - i still have had oysters just a handful of times, and have only recently come to like mussels. the oysters in this dish are poached in butter, and they're wonderfully tender, with the most fantastic flavor. if you aren't sure if you like oysters, these oysters will convert you. i get a slightly crazed smile on my face just thinking about them.
sauteed hudson valley moulard duck foie gras (tokyo turnips, tellicherry black pepper shortbread, watercress and mulberry "gastrique")/salad of marinated "topinambours" (glazed bing cherries, petite sorrel and sicilian pistachio butter)
two of us had the former, and two of us had the latter - i had the former, but tasted a bit of jessica's sunchoke salad. "topinambour," incidentally, is merely the french for "sunchoke." not really sure why the french is required here, other than to make the restaurant seem more posh. our waiter described it to us as a sunchoke salad, probably because he correctly assumed that there was no chance that we would know the french for sunchoke.
so at the french laundry, there was also a foie gras course, but it was the peach melba foie gras, where i believe the foie gras is poached rather than seared, as it was here. i've only had foie gras a couple of times, the first being at the french laundry, and the most recent before today being at o ya. i must say that while the texture of poached foie gras is wonderfully smooth, the joy of eating seared foie gras is pretty much always superior. when it's seared, the interior gets all melty but there's still a crust to the exterior, so it's like eating a chunk of really delicious fat pretending to be meat. there are people who don't like the idea of eating fat, but they obviously haven't had seared foie gras. the turnips and berry puree (i believe we had a huckleberry gastrique, not mulberry, but i could also have just misheard) were nice with the foie gras, especially the berry puree, but the foie gras was clearly in the spotlight. of no particular use to me was the black peppercorn shortbread - it was very buttery and given the fatty nature of the foie gras, i didn't feel a need for the added richness of the shortbread.
this course was a choice between the foie gras and the sunchoke salad, and i am always lucky when i eat with people who like to share tastes of differing courses. i'm not really for or against sunchokes, but they were fine here. of more interest was the cherry with pistachio butter - just the correct balance of sweet and salty. plus absolutely beautiful color on the cherry, contrasted with the green of the pistachio butter. the pistachio butter marks the first time i've really liked pistachios, and the texture of the butter was unrivaled: unctuous, silky, somehow very substantial on your tongue. just beautiful.
extra course: um...a tuna-like fish (texture-wise) with pickled ginger and radish. something like that. it was good. i don't really know why we were given this course, but i know that it was good. pan roasted fillet of gigha island halibut (violet artichokes, compressed lemon cucumber and grapefruit "ravigote") i am not really sure how the term "ravigote" applies to this dish, given the wikipedia entry for ravigote. we can dwell on that later, though, after i describe this to you. first of all, the colors were lovely, with the pink grapefruit and the orange-yellow seared crust of the halibut. the halibut was fantastic: perfectly cooked, but more impressive was the seared crust. this is why these restaurants are so impressive - when the food is cooked in such a way that i can't even figure out what technique they used. the halibut had no coating of any kind, yet the seared surface was crisp and caramelized. i mean, seriously crisp, almost as if just the very surface of the halibut had been deep fried. i have no idea how they did it - is it just a matter of searing the fish at the right, very high temperature for the right amount of time? i know that i can't cook like that. the grapefruit was a perfect pairing for the fish - i'm really liking grapefruit these days. the artichokes and lemon cucumber seemed a little superfluous to me, but maybe that's just because i liked the fish/grapefruit combo so much.
butter poached nova scotia lobster (caramelized mission fig, heirloom beets, and wilted butter lettuce with summer truffle emulsion)
i have also only recently started liking lobster; i flirted with liking it on and off, all throughout my childhood. now i'm very sure that i like it; the deal was sealed when i had a lobster roll at pearl oyster bar. in fact, that lobster roll still stands as the fondest memory i have of lobster: cool, lightly dressed, sweet, tender...gotta hit that place up again. back to per se: the shape of the lobster they used was just so pleasing to the eye, you have no idea. i just wanted to pick the hunk up with my fingers and cram it in my mouth, bite by bite. it was glossy with sauce, and in the shape of half a plump doughnut with no hole, and it was so beautiful. when i was eating it, it was a little difficult to cut, actually, and i don't know enough about lobster to be a particularly good judge of texture, but i thought it was slightly stringy. beautifully tender, but somehow still a little stringy; i know that lobster in general does have strands the way mammalian meat does, but it was still just a little bit disappointing. i really liked the butter lettuce and the summer truffle sauce - the butter lettuce had the absolute perfect amount of bite to it, and the summer truffle sauce was just delicious with the lobster.
cavendish farm's "caille en crepinette" (confit of young fennel, medjool dates and fennel root puree with quail jus)
wikipedia tells me that "crepinette" is a type of french sausage made of chicken, veal, pork, or lamb, wrapped in caul fat. crepinette does not describe this dish at all, unless the quail leg was wrapped in caul fat? it did seem to me that the quail leg was deboned and then rearranged around one slender leg bone, so perhaps it was wrapped in caul fat to keep everything together, like a ballotine. it reminds me of the chicken wing ballotine that i had at o ya - the chicken wing was deboned, and then stuffed with more chicken. that idea still blows me away, you know. back to our quail - the quail leg came with these tiny dates that clearly had been shaped from original medjool dates (which are quite large - these were the size of a smallish green grape), and were lovely and sticky and hard to cut. i like fennel, but it didn't seem particularly successful here, and i hate when chefs throw around the word "confit." why, exactly, is this a confit? i hear the word and i think of duck legs cooked in duck fat. anyway, this was fine, but not exactly mind-blowing. that chicken wing at o ya wins pretty handily.
marcho farm's tenderloin of nature fed veal (greenmarket carrots, young pearl onions, and kendall farm's creme fraiche "pain perdu" with veal sauce)
let's talk a bit about veal. i have to say that i never really eat veal, because the thought of eating a baby animal that's been kept from moving to ensure the tenderness of its meat is kind of revolting. normally i have no qualms about this sort of thing, but i generally draw the line at veal. well, i definitely didn't read the menu carefully enough because i had no idea there was veal on it. i don't really like the flavor of veal, either; it's not a strong dislike, just more of a preference to eat something else. if i had noticed that there was veal on the menu, i would have asked them to substitute something else. but you know, it was there, so i ate it. i suppose i could have sent it back, but in terms of etiquette i felt that the window for that had shut quite some time ago. i think that for me, the best parts of this dish were the veal, the bits of veal...cheek? (it was braised, so it had more bite to it), and the pain perdu. the pain perdu seemed to be cubes of a soft, buttery bread - most likely brioche - that were soaked in creme fraiche and sauteed until golden. i'm not really sure how anything can really be soaked in creme fraiche, but that's my best guess. the fact that i didn't particularly feel a need to eat the veg (but i did) brings up the issue of unnecessary elements of a dish. i felt that these were a rather generic way to get some sort of vegetable into a meat dish. and i say this: if you want to have a dish that's all meat and no veg, because it simply doesn't need any, then go right ahead.
di bruno brothers' "burrata" (marinated jewel box tomatoes, arugula coulis, and nyons extra virgin olive oil)
the name of this dish annoys me in its use of quotation marks. of all of the things i hate about thomas keller (and this list is very short), i hate his use of quotation marks. we know that the menu is an interpretation of the techniques that are listed; i do not need quotation marks to tell me when you are being more playful with a technique. that's why i'm eating the food: to find out what your interpretation is. even more annoying is this quotation mark situation: the word burrata does not need quotation marks because the dish genuinely included a slice of real burrata. there's no interpretation there: it. just. is. was there something fake about the burrata? something not genuine? seemed pretty much like a burrata to me. i'd never had burrata, actually, so this was a treat for me - the interior creamy part is pretty awesome. cool, creamy, just slightly mozzarella-flavored...i could definitely eat this all day. let me also say that this dish came with two tiny little toast points that were perfectly crispy, and that the tomatoes were the best tomatoes i have had in about a year, easily. the last time i had good tomatoes was when i had heirloom tomatoes in a tosci's blt, when they were taste-testing them and gave us samples. you know you've got a good tomato when you can taste that it has spent oodles of time in the sun. and did you know - the tomatoes were peeled! who peels tomatoes?! in this case it was totally warranted, because it allowed you to just taste tomato without having to chew through the skin of the tomato.
plum sorbet (santa rosa plums, ginger pudding, plum consomme and gingerbread crisp)
this was quite nice, and i love sorbets (this was a creamy sorbet, so really more like ice cream) and plums. plums and ginger are always a fantastic combination - i've done a gingered plum shortcake in the past - and this was no exception. there was a bottom layer of something gingery - it could have been a poached slice of ginger - that i wasn't a huge fan of. the ginger pudding was an english-style pudding, though, which more than made up for said strange slice of stuff.
"peanut butter and milk" (bitter chocolate mousse with salted peanut cream and reduced milk ice cream)
this was almost a showstopper! i mean, it was great, and i thought it was perfectly executed; i just wanted it to somehow be slightly more exciting. the peanut butter was fantastic - roasted, salty, absolutely beautiful perfect texture: unctuous, buttery, but still somehow substantial. the reduced milk ice cream was also quite wonderful - it tasted very simple and familiar and was the perfect accompaniment to the peanut butter and chocolate. the chocolate was probably the weak point for me - there was a mousse and also a chunk of chocolaty stuff that was almost ganache. the mousse was good but forgettable, while the chocolate chunk was a little too dense. but flavorwise, this delivered pretty well.
"mignardises"
thomas keller, you punctuation maniac, there you go with the extra quotation marks. please stop. if you want to broadcast that this word is french and not english, just put it in italics like the rest of the world - no need to be fancy (and...wrong). the mignardises at the french laundry back in 2006 were not quite as spectacular as they were this afternoon, which seems somehow wrong since we're more in a recession now than we were then. the mignardises are kind of like the end of a fireworks show: the crew is done with all of the carefully orchestrated stuff, and now it's just time to bombard the crowd with all of the leftover fireworks. so first, they brought us mini creme brulees and pots de creme. then, coffee and tea. then, chocolate truffles on a silver platter, flavors pointed out by our server with a very tastefully shiny brown card instead of her finger (i had grapefruit and fennel, which were really good). then, a bowl of chocolate covered, cocoa dusted hazelnuts, and a bowl of tiny, striped, house-made sugar candies wrapped in twists of cellophane. then, a silver tiered dish containing caramels in the top, cherry nougat in the middle, and more truffles (coconut, dark chocolate, caramel) in the bottom. i'm pretty sure we sat there for an extra hour just talking and stuffing our faces with sweets.
the scene
a word about the all-important scene: i am always interested to see who exactly waltzes into these posh establishments. even the group i was with was rather unorthodox: four grad students. i mean, where do grad students get the kind of money to pay for a lunch like this, on the stereotypical grad student's budget? i don't know. i mean, i do: thank you, us government, for my stimulus check. i am always surprised, though, when i find fellow students who are interested in food at this level, because it's an expensive habit.
about other people: i love to see how people dress for places like this - people break out their sunday best. there was a woman with the most inappropriate black velvet sack-shaped purse (in my opinion, even lunch at per se does not require that kind of fake formality), a woman in a super-trendy draped sweater dress (awesome), a girl in a chiffon-type polka-dotted summer dress (very pretty but somehow out of place). the woman who takes the cake, though, was the one sitting at the table next over from us. first of all, i do think that bra straps should stay hidden at nice restaurants, and that any exposed lingerie should at least be very pretty; i also think that see-through dresses are a faux pas at nice restaurants. this woman struck out on both counts. i didn't really want to know exactly what kind of thong she was wearing, but i do know. and the lighting in the restaurant was dim; i would hate to know what happens in broad daylight. let's just not go there.
was it worth it?
i guess you really have to qualify "worth it" when you answer this question. i don't actually think the food was worth it - i remember the food being more interesting at the french laundry, to be honest. but i do think it was really wonderful to relax away from the bustle of new york with people who were great to talk to. it was also really wonderful to be able to hang out with scientists, because it's nice to get a break from architecture now and then. so in terms of company, and as an experience, it was worth it, but the food fell short. the food just seemed too conventional for new york, and i found myself wishing it was more creative. i really wanted to like per se, but i don't think i'll be back.
as fate would have it, one of jessica's friends managed to get a lunch reservation. then they had someone drop out of their party of four, and voila, suddenly i was going to go to lunch at per se. why the sudden change of heart? well, at the end of the day, i really was curious to see if per se is different from the french laundry. and i also wanted to hang out with jessica, since i hadn't seen her in a while. for those who are wondering how i can justify that much on one dinner, well, i really do enjoy eating food that is interesting and prepared with impeccable technique. much as i like to believe i'm a good cook, i'm really just a good home cook - i've got nothing on these four-star restaurants. and i know enough about food to know when the kitchen is doing something really spectacular, and with every posh dinner i've had (about once a year), it has been worth it. i think that what i'm getting out of the dinner is more than just food; it's the opportunity to see what someone else is thinking about food: what it is, what it should be, and how you should eat it. i love high-concept food when it delivers, when a chef is thinking about a certain problem and that a particular dish is the solution to that problem.
so, lunch. per se is rather nouveau riche with respect to interior design. it's as if the interior designer made a list of all of the different styles and objects that were of interest, and then just threw them all together in the restaurant without any restraint. there are all-glass tables, french-style blue doors, walls made of rough-hewn stone, a reception desk that's a chrome spiral, a glassed-in wine cellar...you name the style, per se has it. still, i do always love a restaurant with padded armchairs, as if you're in someone's very posh living room, or are going to spend a while at the restaurant (or all of the above) - it automatically makes me feel like lingering.
we all got the chef's tasting menu, and shared a bottle of navarro vineyards' gewürztraminer juice (yeah, it's nonalcoholic - it's made from the same grapes as the vineyard uses to make wine, but it's not fermented). so there you have the basics, and now i'll do my rambling recounting of lunch by course and random musing.
to start, we had the traditional thomas keller amuse bouche: gougeres and the marinated salmon cones. i could have sworn that the gougeres i had at the french laundry were hollow; the ones at per se had some sort of creamy, cheesy filling that had obviously just been piped into the gougeres. they were lovely, as usual, and the filling was really wonderful. the marinated salmon cones sparked copycats all over the country, but are always fun and tasty. the cone is a savory tuile that has black sesame seeds in it, and is filled with creme fraiche and topped with a small ball of marinated salmon ... paste? it's not exactly a paste or puree, since the salmon is raw; it's just...ground as if it had been ground by an ant-size meat grinder. this actually kind of grossed me out the first time i had it, because it's a familiar shape that causes me to expect a certain flavor - ie, sweet - to come with it when i eat it. it's also a little weird to be eating cured salmon as a puree. but this time i wasn't fazed at all, for some reason. it's interesting, too, to see the same ingredients in a dish at alinea, but with a preparation that's totally different - grant achatz does frozen creme fraiche topped with shaved frozen salmon, topped with a chive stem that you use to pick the whole thing up with. so it's the same ingredients, but the preparation totally changes the way they taste.
"oysters and pearls" (sabayon of pearl tapioca with island creek oysters and sterling white sturgeon caviar)
this first course is a gold standard of thomas keller's repertoire, and for good reason - it's consistently fantastic. the sabayon is creamy, the caviar is salty, and the oysters are divine. also, it's fun to eat with a caviar spoon. let's revisit those oysters - i still have had oysters just a handful of times, and have only recently come to like mussels. the oysters in this dish are poached in butter, and they're wonderfully tender, with the most fantastic flavor. if you aren't sure if you like oysters, these oysters will convert you. i get a slightly crazed smile on my face just thinking about them.
sauteed hudson valley moulard duck foie gras (tokyo turnips, tellicherry black pepper shortbread, watercress and mulberry "gastrique")/salad of marinated "topinambours" (glazed bing cherries, petite sorrel and sicilian pistachio butter)
two of us had the former, and two of us had the latter - i had the former, but tasted a bit of jessica's sunchoke salad. "topinambour," incidentally, is merely the french for "sunchoke." not really sure why the french is required here, other than to make the restaurant seem more posh. our waiter described it to us as a sunchoke salad, probably because he correctly assumed that there was no chance that we would know the french for sunchoke.
so at the french laundry, there was also a foie gras course, but it was the peach melba foie gras, where i believe the foie gras is poached rather than seared, as it was here. i've only had foie gras a couple of times, the first being at the french laundry, and the most recent before today being at o ya. i must say that while the texture of poached foie gras is wonderfully smooth, the joy of eating seared foie gras is pretty much always superior. when it's seared, the interior gets all melty but there's still a crust to the exterior, so it's like eating a chunk of really delicious fat pretending to be meat. there are people who don't like the idea of eating fat, but they obviously haven't had seared foie gras. the turnips and berry puree (i believe we had a huckleberry gastrique, not mulberry, but i could also have just misheard) were nice with the foie gras, especially the berry puree, but the foie gras was clearly in the spotlight. of no particular use to me was the black peppercorn shortbread - it was very buttery and given the fatty nature of the foie gras, i didn't feel a need for the added richness of the shortbread.
this course was a choice between the foie gras and the sunchoke salad, and i am always lucky when i eat with people who like to share tastes of differing courses. i'm not really for or against sunchokes, but they were fine here. of more interest was the cherry with pistachio butter - just the correct balance of sweet and salty. plus absolutely beautiful color on the cherry, contrasted with the green of the pistachio butter. the pistachio butter marks the first time i've really liked pistachios, and the texture of the butter was unrivaled: unctuous, silky, somehow very substantial on your tongue. just beautiful.
extra course: um...a tuna-like fish (texture-wise) with pickled ginger and radish. something like that. it was good. i don't really know why we were given this course, but i know that it was good. pan roasted fillet of gigha island halibut (violet artichokes, compressed lemon cucumber and grapefruit "ravigote") i am not really sure how the term "ravigote" applies to this dish, given the wikipedia entry for ravigote. we can dwell on that later, though, after i describe this to you. first of all, the colors were lovely, with the pink grapefruit and the orange-yellow seared crust of the halibut. the halibut was fantastic: perfectly cooked, but more impressive was the seared crust. this is why these restaurants are so impressive - when the food is cooked in such a way that i can't even figure out what technique they used. the halibut had no coating of any kind, yet the seared surface was crisp and caramelized. i mean, seriously crisp, almost as if just the very surface of the halibut had been deep fried. i have no idea how they did it - is it just a matter of searing the fish at the right, very high temperature for the right amount of time? i know that i can't cook like that. the grapefruit was a perfect pairing for the fish - i'm really liking grapefruit these days. the artichokes and lemon cucumber seemed a little superfluous to me, but maybe that's just because i liked the fish/grapefruit combo so much.
butter poached nova scotia lobster (caramelized mission fig, heirloom beets, and wilted butter lettuce with summer truffle emulsion)
i have also only recently started liking lobster; i flirted with liking it on and off, all throughout my childhood. now i'm very sure that i like it; the deal was sealed when i had a lobster roll at pearl oyster bar. in fact, that lobster roll still stands as the fondest memory i have of lobster: cool, lightly dressed, sweet, tender...gotta hit that place up again. back to per se: the shape of the lobster they used was just so pleasing to the eye, you have no idea. i just wanted to pick the hunk up with my fingers and cram it in my mouth, bite by bite. it was glossy with sauce, and in the shape of half a plump doughnut with no hole, and it was so beautiful. when i was eating it, it was a little difficult to cut, actually, and i don't know enough about lobster to be a particularly good judge of texture, but i thought it was slightly stringy. beautifully tender, but somehow still a little stringy; i know that lobster in general does have strands the way mammalian meat does, but it was still just a little bit disappointing. i really liked the butter lettuce and the summer truffle sauce - the butter lettuce had the absolute perfect amount of bite to it, and the summer truffle sauce was just delicious with the lobster.
cavendish farm's "caille en crepinette" (confit of young fennel, medjool dates and fennel root puree with quail jus)
wikipedia tells me that "crepinette" is a type of french sausage made of chicken, veal, pork, or lamb, wrapped in caul fat. crepinette does not describe this dish at all, unless the quail leg was wrapped in caul fat? it did seem to me that the quail leg was deboned and then rearranged around one slender leg bone, so perhaps it was wrapped in caul fat to keep everything together, like a ballotine. it reminds me of the chicken wing ballotine that i had at o ya - the chicken wing was deboned, and then stuffed with more chicken. that idea still blows me away, you know. back to our quail - the quail leg came with these tiny dates that clearly had been shaped from original medjool dates (which are quite large - these were the size of a smallish green grape), and were lovely and sticky and hard to cut. i like fennel, but it didn't seem particularly successful here, and i hate when chefs throw around the word "confit." why, exactly, is this a confit? i hear the word and i think of duck legs cooked in duck fat. anyway, this was fine, but not exactly mind-blowing. that chicken wing at o ya wins pretty handily.
marcho farm's tenderloin of nature fed veal (greenmarket carrots, young pearl onions, and kendall farm's creme fraiche "pain perdu" with veal sauce)
let's talk a bit about veal. i have to say that i never really eat veal, because the thought of eating a baby animal that's been kept from moving to ensure the tenderness of its meat is kind of revolting. normally i have no qualms about this sort of thing, but i generally draw the line at veal. well, i definitely didn't read the menu carefully enough because i had no idea there was veal on it. i don't really like the flavor of veal, either; it's not a strong dislike, just more of a preference to eat something else. if i had noticed that there was veal on the menu, i would have asked them to substitute something else. but you know, it was there, so i ate it. i suppose i could have sent it back, but in terms of etiquette i felt that the window for that had shut quite some time ago. i think that for me, the best parts of this dish were the veal, the bits of veal...cheek? (it was braised, so it had more bite to it), and the pain perdu. the pain perdu seemed to be cubes of a soft, buttery bread - most likely brioche - that were soaked in creme fraiche and sauteed until golden. i'm not really sure how anything can really be soaked in creme fraiche, but that's my best guess. the fact that i didn't particularly feel a need to eat the veg (but i did) brings up the issue of unnecessary elements of a dish. i felt that these were a rather generic way to get some sort of vegetable into a meat dish. and i say this: if you want to have a dish that's all meat and no veg, because it simply doesn't need any, then go right ahead.
di bruno brothers' "burrata" (marinated jewel box tomatoes, arugula coulis, and nyons extra virgin olive oil)
the name of this dish annoys me in its use of quotation marks. of all of the things i hate about thomas keller (and this list is very short), i hate his use of quotation marks. we know that the menu is an interpretation of the techniques that are listed; i do not need quotation marks to tell me when you are being more playful with a technique. that's why i'm eating the food: to find out what your interpretation is. even more annoying is this quotation mark situation: the word burrata does not need quotation marks because the dish genuinely included a slice of real burrata. there's no interpretation there: it. just. is. was there something fake about the burrata? something not genuine? seemed pretty much like a burrata to me. i'd never had burrata, actually, so this was a treat for me - the interior creamy part is pretty awesome. cool, creamy, just slightly mozzarella-flavored...i could definitely eat this all day. let me also say that this dish came with two tiny little toast points that were perfectly crispy, and that the tomatoes were the best tomatoes i have had in about a year, easily. the last time i had good tomatoes was when i had heirloom tomatoes in a tosci's blt, when they were taste-testing them and gave us samples. you know you've got a good tomato when you can taste that it has spent oodles of time in the sun. and did you know - the tomatoes were peeled! who peels tomatoes?! in this case it was totally warranted, because it allowed you to just taste tomato without having to chew through the skin of the tomato.
plum sorbet (santa rosa plums, ginger pudding, plum consomme and gingerbread crisp)
this was quite nice, and i love sorbets (this was a creamy sorbet, so really more like ice cream) and plums. plums and ginger are always a fantastic combination - i've done a gingered plum shortcake in the past - and this was no exception. there was a bottom layer of something gingery - it could have been a poached slice of ginger - that i wasn't a huge fan of. the ginger pudding was an english-style pudding, though, which more than made up for said strange slice of stuff.
"peanut butter and milk" (bitter chocolate mousse with salted peanut cream and reduced milk ice cream)
this was almost a showstopper! i mean, it was great, and i thought it was perfectly executed; i just wanted it to somehow be slightly more exciting. the peanut butter was fantastic - roasted, salty, absolutely beautiful perfect texture: unctuous, buttery, but still somehow substantial. the reduced milk ice cream was also quite wonderful - it tasted very simple and familiar and was the perfect accompaniment to the peanut butter and chocolate. the chocolate was probably the weak point for me - there was a mousse and also a chunk of chocolaty stuff that was almost ganache. the mousse was good but forgettable, while the chocolate chunk was a little too dense. but flavorwise, this delivered pretty well.
"mignardises"
thomas keller, you punctuation maniac, there you go with the extra quotation marks. please stop. if you want to broadcast that this word is french and not english, just put it in italics like the rest of the world - no need to be fancy (and...wrong). the mignardises at the french laundry back in 2006 were not quite as spectacular as they were this afternoon, which seems somehow wrong since we're more in a recession now than we were then. the mignardises are kind of like the end of a fireworks show: the crew is done with all of the carefully orchestrated stuff, and now it's just time to bombard the crowd with all of the leftover fireworks. so first, they brought us mini creme brulees and pots de creme. then, coffee and tea. then, chocolate truffles on a silver platter, flavors pointed out by our server with a very tastefully shiny brown card instead of her finger (i had grapefruit and fennel, which were really good). then, a bowl of chocolate covered, cocoa dusted hazelnuts, and a bowl of tiny, striped, house-made sugar candies wrapped in twists of cellophane. then, a silver tiered dish containing caramels in the top, cherry nougat in the middle, and more truffles (coconut, dark chocolate, caramel) in the bottom. i'm pretty sure we sat there for an extra hour just talking and stuffing our faces with sweets.
the scene
a word about the all-important scene: i am always interested to see who exactly waltzes into these posh establishments. even the group i was with was rather unorthodox: four grad students. i mean, where do grad students get the kind of money to pay for a lunch like this, on the stereotypical grad student's budget? i don't know. i mean, i do: thank you, us government, for my stimulus check. i am always surprised, though, when i find fellow students who are interested in food at this level, because it's an expensive habit.
about other people: i love to see how people dress for places like this - people break out their sunday best. there was a woman with the most inappropriate black velvet sack-shaped purse (in my opinion, even lunch at per se does not require that kind of fake formality), a woman in a super-trendy draped sweater dress (awesome), a girl in a chiffon-type polka-dotted summer dress (very pretty but somehow out of place). the woman who takes the cake, though, was the one sitting at the table next over from us. first of all, i do think that bra straps should stay hidden at nice restaurants, and that any exposed lingerie should at least be very pretty; i also think that see-through dresses are a faux pas at nice restaurants. this woman struck out on both counts. i didn't really want to know exactly what kind of thong she was wearing, but i do know. and the lighting in the restaurant was dim; i would hate to know what happens in broad daylight. let's just not go there.
was it worth it?
i guess you really have to qualify "worth it" when you answer this question. i don't actually think the food was worth it - i remember the food being more interesting at the french laundry, to be honest. but i do think it was really wonderful to relax away from the bustle of new york with people who were great to talk to. it was also really wonderful to be able to hang out with scientists, because it's nice to get a break from architecture now and then. so in terms of company, and as an experience, it was worth it, but the food fell short. the food just seemed too conventional for new york, and i found myself wishing it was more creative. i really wanted to like per se, but i don't think i'll be back.
24 juillet 2008
top tens (again)
it's that time again: time for a random updating of my top ten favorite restaurants in boston/cambridge. these lists are always a little suspect because, well, what do i mean by top ten? i think that in this case, it's a best-hits type of thing, where memory - and the longevity of memory - are a key factor. this is an interesting question to me, because i know that if i really, really enjoyed the restaurant, i will remember the meal i had there despite the inevitable fading of my memory. take alinea, for example: i ate there two years ago, but i still remember specific dishes: how they tasted and how we ate them. or the taste of the honey ice cream at aujourd'hui, also two or three years ago. memory is also pretty fickle: i have no way of knowing what i would think of a dish i had two years ago. my food memory isn't that good. and it's a legitimate question, at least to me: as your palate changes and develops, from eating more different kinds of foods (or perhaps just getting older), you have no way of knowing that your foundation of food knowledge is still the same. are the best chefs just that detail-oriented and gifted with respect to long-term memory?
ten favorite restaurants in the boston/cambridge area, 2008
1. craigie street bistrot. we did a chef's whim dinner back in the spring and while not everything was a hit, everything was pretty exciting. seared beef with smoked beef tongue and beef marrow blobs? yeah. exactly. i'm just a little bit thrilled that craigie street is moving into a space around the corner from me.
2. pomodoro. if you're looking for a friendly neighborhood restaurant that manages to be hip but not pretentious, this is it.
3. upstairs on the square. i went here for lunch with c, and just had a cheeseburger. it was the best cheeseburger i've ever had. it'll put you back a well-spent $14. and then get the butterscotch pudding.
4. o ya. if you're not afraid to spend, this is the place to do it.
5. restaurant pava. still memorable for its bread selection.
6. rendezvous. the last time i was there, i had this blood orange ceviche with scallops that was absolutely divine. every time i think about it, i want it again.
7. central kitchen. if you're looking for a friendly neighborhood restaurant that's actually in your neighborhood, this is the place to be.
8. sound bites. best brunch, but oh so far away.
9. pigalle. always a solid standby.
10. mariposa bakery. service has brightened considerably upon the return of my favorite sandwich-maker. best sandwiches and scones in the city. don't forget to get a chocolate chocolate chip cookie on your way out. oh, and expect to wait for your sandwich.
ten favorite restaurants in the boston/cambridge area, 2007
1. craigie street bistrot (interesting updating of classical french food; impeccable technique)
2. pomodoro (best italian food i've ever had; best, and friendliest, service)
3. pigalle (really excellent french country food, excellent service)
4. restaurant pava (most interesting and successful flavor combinations; best bread)
5. sel de la terre (excellent french food)
6. rendezvous (more adventurous new american that occasionally misses its mark)
7. upstairs on the square (slightly overpriced, but really excellent new american)
8. central kitchen (close-to-home, unpretentious new american)
9. aujourd'hui (excellent, sophisticated upscale french)
10. miracle of science (best burger)
ten favorite restaurants in the boston/cambridge area, 2006
1. craigie street bistrot
2. pigalle
3. caffe umbra
4. sel de la terre
5. upstairs on the square
6. central kitchen
7. aujourd'hui
8. picco
9. rangzen
10. addis red sea
ten favorite restaurants in the boston/cambridge area, 2008
1. craigie street bistrot. we did a chef's whim dinner back in the spring and while not everything was a hit, everything was pretty exciting. seared beef with smoked beef tongue and beef marrow blobs? yeah. exactly. i'm just a little bit thrilled that craigie street is moving into a space around the corner from me.
2. pomodoro. if you're looking for a friendly neighborhood restaurant that manages to be hip but not pretentious, this is it.
3. upstairs on the square. i went here for lunch with c, and just had a cheeseburger. it was the best cheeseburger i've ever had. it'll put you back a well-spent $14. and then get the butterscotch pudding.
4. o ya. if you're not afraid to spend, this is the place to do it.
5. restaurant pava. still memorable for its bread selection.
6. rendezvous. the last time i was there, i had this blood orange ceviche with scallops that was absolutely divine. every time i think about it, i want it again.
7. central kitchen. if you're looking for a friendly neighborhood restaurant that's actually in your neighborhood, this is the place to be.
8. sound bites. best brunch, but oh so far away.
9. pigalle. always a solid standby.
10. mariposa bakery. service has brightened considerably upon the return of my favorite sandwich-maker. best sandwiches and scones in the city. don't forget to get a chocolate chocolate chip cookie on your way out. oh, and expect to wait for your sandwich.
ten favorite restaurants in the boston/cambridge area, 2007
1. craigie street bistrot (interesting updating of classical french food; impeccable technique)
2. pomodoro (best italian food i've ever had; best, and friendliest, service)
3. pigalle (really excellent french country food, excellent service)
4. restaurant pava (most interesting and successful flavor combinations; best bread)
5. sel de la terre (excellent french food)
6. rendezvous (more adventurous new american that occasionally misses its mark)
7. upstairs on the square (slightly overpriced, but really excellent new american)
8. central kitchen (close-to-home, unpretentious new american)
9. aujourd'hui (excellent, sophisticated upscale french)
10. miracle of science (best burger)
ten favorite restaurants in the boston/cambridge area, 2006
1. craigie street bistrot
2. pigalle
3. caffe umbra
4. sel de la terre
5. upstairs on the square
6. central kitchen
7. aujourd'hui
8. picco
9. rangzen
10. addis red sea
22 juillet 2008
definite and indefinite allergies
i can feel it - the allergic reaction i have to most raw fruit - starting to tickle the back of my throat. serves me right, but this summer it's been so humid occasionally that i refuse to cook, and eat fruit instead. ok, i just eat a bunch of fruit for dinner fairly often.
i didn't always have this weird allergy - it developed while i was in high school. suddenly i was allergic to most raw fruit, basically everything except for grapes, citrus fruit, raspberries, and um...yeah, that's kind of it. i'm even very slightly allergic to bananas and cantaloupe. go figure. unfortunately, included in the realm of allergy-inducing foods are my favorite fruits: plums, cherries, and peaches. now, it's true that this particular allergy (other allergies include pollen, dust, alcohol, and cats) is not particularly violent, unlike my life-threatening allergy to alcohol. however, it's quite enough to make me sorry for eating the offending fruit. so really, for the past several years, i've always eaten cooked fruit.
this is a sorry situation to be thrown into, and in the past several months i've lifted my moratorium on fresh fruit, figuring that it's been quite long enough without it, and i'd deal with the consequences. besides, it's summer - the best months for produce - and i wasn't prepared to let it pass me by for another year. first i discovered that i am no longer allergic to watermelon, or apples if they're peeled. i still am allergic to strawberries, which is ok because i don't like them that much anyway, but also plums, peaches, and cherries. when i was living in seattle, i once pitted five pounds of cherries i'd bought at the market, and i really regretted it - the allergic reaction took its toll on my hands, which were achy yet itchy for days afterwards. anyway, the sudden changes in my allergies really make me wonder how much psychology (in the way that placebos sometimes work in clinical trials) affects allergies. there are definite allergies - like the one to alcohol (if i drink too fast, my throat closes up and i die; that one's not going away for a long time) - but i wonder if my fresh fruit allergy is something that is affected by whether or not i think i'm allergic.
at any rate, i'm enjoying the summer season of produce, even if it annoys me sometimes with the tickle of allergies. after such a long time going without, it's kind of exciting to eat a plum again and have more than just a memory of what a plum tastes like. actually, it's pretty fricking awesome to know what a plum tastes like for real. it's one of those things where you didn't know you were missing out as much as you were.
i didn't always have this weird allergy - it developed while i was in high school. suddenly i was allergic to most raw fruit, basically everything except for grapes, citrus fruit, raspberries, and um...yeah, that's kind of it. i'm even very slightly allergic to bananas and cantaloupe. go figure. unfortunately, included in the realm of allergy-inducing foods are my favorite fruits: plums, cherries, and peaches. now, it's true that this particular allergy (other allergies include pollen, dust, alcohol, and cats) is not particularly violent, unlike my life-threatening allergy to alcohol. however, it's quite enough to make me sorry for eating the offending fruit. so really, for the past several years, i've always eaten cooked fruit.
this is a sorry situation to be thrown into, and in the past several months i've lifted my moratorium on fresh fruit, figuring that it's been quite long enough without it, and i'd deal with the consequences. besides, it's summer - the best months for produce - and i wasn't prepared to let it pass me by for another year. first i discovered that i am no longer allergic to watermelon, or apples if they're peeled. i still am allergic to strawberries, which is ok because i don't like them that much anyway, but also plums, peaches, and cherries. when i was living in seattle, i once pitted five pounds of cherries i'd bought at the market, and i really regretted it - the allergic reaction took its toll on my hands, which were achy yet itchy for days afterwards. anyway, the sudden changes in my allergies really make me wonder how much psychology (in the way that placebos sometimes work in clinical trials) affects allergies. there are definite allergies - like the one to alcohol (if i drink too fast, my throat closes up and i die; that one's not going away for a long time) - but i wonder if my fresh fruit allergy is something that is affected by whether or not i think i'm allergic.
at any rate, i'm enjoying the summer season of produce, even if it annoys me sometimes with the tickle of allergies. after such a long time going without, it's kind of exciting to eat a plum again and have more than just a memory of what a plum tastes like. actually, it's pretty fricking awesome to know what a plum tastes like for real. it's one of those things where you didn't know you were missing out as much as you were.
20 juillet 2008
ripped from the headlines
can you believe that i haven't been watching law & order obsessively? yeah, neither can i. so this isn't a murder case involving food, but it does involve me surreptitiously copying a recipe out of the best recipe at barnes & noble. this is my favorite recipe for chocolate pudding, and i know multiple people who do own the cookbook (i bought it for my sister a few years ago), i just always forget to write it down somewhere. so this is just me writing it down so i can have it for later. writing it down in more than my shorthand, too:
best chocolate pudding ever
2T cocoa*
2T cornstarch
2/3c sugar
1/8t salt
1c light cream, room temp
3 egg yolks, room temp
2c whole milk, room temp
6 oz bittersweet chocolate, melted and cooled**
1T butter
1. sift together the cocoa, cornstarch, sugar, and salt.
2. whisk in the cream, yolks, and milk. whisk in the chocolate. the chocolate will clump, but that's just the reaction of the melted chocolate to the cooler liquids. the lumps will cook out when you heat the mixture.
3. bring to a boil in a medium saucepan over medium high heat (this is what the best recipe says, but just to be safe i like to do it all at medium), then reduce heat to medium and boil 1 1/2-2 minutes longer, until the pudding has thickened. be sure to give the pudding frequent stirs with a wooden spoon or rubber spatula, and you can see how thick the pudding is by sticking the spoon/spatula in and drawing a finger through the pudding that coats the spoon. it should be thick, not runny in any way, and probably if you're wondering if it's the right consistency, you need a little longer. don't overcook it, though, or the pudding will curdle because your egg yolks got too cooked. this is why you cook it over medium heat while stirring: to gently cook the custard until it sets.
4. remove the pan from the stove and stir in the butter until it's completely incorporated. pour the pudding into whatever you're using as a serving dish and cover with plastic wrap - if you press the plastic wrap into the surface of the pudding it will prevent a skin from forming, if you hate the pudding skin.
[serves 4-6]
*if you use valrhona cocoa (available in bulk at whole foods, near the cheeses) you will not be disappointed - valrhona cocoa turns this pudding almost black.
**i like to use callebaut bittersweet, which i think is 64% cacao? anyway, it gives good chocolate flavor, isn't fruity like scharffenberger (do not get me started), and isn't too expensive. also available at whole foods unless you live in tribeca.
18 juillet 2008
review: annisa, or, on being overcritical
annisa / 13 barrow street, new york / 212-741-6699 / m-sat 5:30-10:30, sun 5:30-9:30 / appetizers $9-18, entrees $27-33
when i was in chicago, i always felt awkward having dinner by myself - i always have that problem, when not in cambridge, where i can't find people who share my predilection for eating out at nice restaurants. luckily i have (a) grown out of this phase; (b) know a couple of people who will go with me on occasion; and (c) feel more comfortable eating out by myself in new york than in most cities. it's also true that i'm a student and can't afford a whole lot of nice dinners, but this summer i'm in new york and i want to make the most of it. this is partly why i currently have three jobs (yeah, don't ask...i just have trouble saying no).
most of the time, though, i do prefer to eat out with other people. yesterday's partner in crime: j, who lives in brooklyn and is also interning this summer. we went to annisa, which is actually just a few blocks from my apartment. additional sidebar: i feel really weird when i come and go from my apartment since it's right in the middle of a busy, trendy area - all of these people have come to the neighborhood to go out, and i'm going up to my apartment to stay in because i don't feel like going out when everybody else is out too. yes, i am living in new york despite my aversion to large crowds of people. i'm avoiding times square like the plague.
dinner at annisa brought up an interesting question: what do you value more, the company you have at dinner, or the food itself, and how does that affect how you perceive the dining experience you had? for me, it's a little complicated. i usually pick a place because there's something interesting about the food - chez henri, for example, has french-cuban food that i have yet to try - but i also want to have good company when i'm at the restaurant. so i do want both, but there is a significance to the order of operations. and once i'm at the restaurant, good company goes a long way towards covering for subpar food. sometimes, the food is really that good - like when we went to o ya - and sometimes, just the act of going out and relaxing at dinner with someone makes you ignore any shortcomings until later.
reflecting on this a couple of days later, i think annisa falls in the latter category for me, because i found myself being really critical of the dinner itself. part of this, surely, is due to my expectations being higher for new york restaurants because of its vaunted reputation as one of the best restaurant cities in the country. i suspect that the strength of new york's food scene is more about the range of food, though. because i have been to the vast majority of restaurants worth going to in boston, and i can tell you that we eat pretty well there.
back to annisa. i had been grumpy all week, so it was really great to go to a nice restaurant that wasn't cramped and didn't rush you. with respect to service and decor, annisa does quite well. it's nothing to knock you out, but it acquits itself well notwithstanding. and we were there for over three hours, and they only rushed us once or twice at the end.
so now you've been reading for a while and you're wondering about the food, especially after this ridiculously long exposition. well, we started with an amuse bouche: a tiny little fluted cup that had chicken liver puree piped into it, topped with a couple of currants. the cup was edible - it seemed to be some sort of savory tuile, and i assume it was at least made with that technique, where the batter thins out while it bakes and then you mold it right when it comes out of the oven. i suppose it could also have been made by brushing the batter into a mold and baking it, but the batter would have to be the perfect consistency and the oven a very precise temperature in order for the batter not to pool before setting up. this was very nice, if not particularly original; it had a fantastic contrast in texture, with the crunch of the cup. and you can't argue with an amuse bouche that actually triggers an entire conversation about the joys of eating liver.
i'll mention the bread here too, since i harped on that in my review of banq. the bread is uninspired here - i prefer an amuse bouche to bread. i've thought a bit more about this and here's my position on bread at restaurants: unless it's something interesting, or particularly good quality, i don't really want it. to restaurants everywhere: i hope you're trying to impress me with your bread, because i'm paying attention. i don't need it to be spectacular, i just want it to make sense. i'll even give you an example: bringing around a roll is a ploy used at pigalle to pace your meal, so you have something to do while you wait between appetizer and main course. in general, i'm just not a big bread eater: i'm used to starting a meal with soup, an amuse bouche, salad, etc. i also prefer to eat my bread with butter, and sprinkled with sugar, and usually you don't get a sugar bowl at restaurants with the bread. i'm just not a fan of a cold roll with a hard crust to start off a dinner. exceptions to this rule: if the bread is interesting or just plain good (a la restaurant pava, or even just the soft foccacia-like bread they serve at central kitchen with hummus); if it's served with interesting accompaniments like antipasto or really good butter; if i've ordered a bowl of soup and want to pretend i'm french and wipe the bowl with the bread; if the bread is toasted; if i'm really, amazingly hungry and can't wait until the food starts arriving. that's how i feel about bread: now you know.
at annisa, they do the nondescript roll thing. not only do they come by once, they come by about every 20-30 minutes. this is nice for the people who have ordered something that they want bread with - a very saucy dish, etc - and it recognizes that your preference may change within the course of the meal. but it's also kind of annoying, in all reality, because the bread's not even that great. i can't really be mad, because i do actually appreciate that people who may feel awkward or greedy asking for more bread are accommodated. i think i'm projected my dislike of the bread itself onto the practice with which it was distributed. i mean, seriously, annisa: you can do better than this. kudos for butter being at the correct temperature, though! and it was really lovely - those shell-shaped curls of butter with gorgeous luster. you know i ate some bread just to eat it with that butter.
first course: we split an appetizer - the soup dumplings with foie gras. you know, i heard good things about these, and i was a little disappointed. first of all, the dumpling skin was the wrong one for soup dumplings - it wasn't very pliable, and it was more like a thickish wonton wrapper. i'm not an expert on soup dumplings, but i do know that the skins are stretchier and softer than these were. if they were handmade, and i hope they were, the dough was kneaded too much or the skins were undercooked. the basic preparation, before you get totally confused, was this: a square plate drizzled with some sort of soy reduction, four half-moon shaped dumplings placed on the reduction, a piece of foie gras placed on each dumpling. if you're reading "half moon shaped" and thinking "soup dumpling?" you're correct: no soup dumpling i ever ate in china or chinatown was missing its distinctive flower/fluted top. the soup dumpling technique is one i haven't tried and know would be relatively difficult to master, what with the complicated folding. so yeah, the technique, or lack thereof, annoyed me. and one of the dumplings had a hole in it already! would thomas keller have let the dish go out like that? i don't think so.
after all was said and done, though, these tasted pretty good. they needed a little bit more soup to really warrant the name soup dumpling, but the pork inside was excellent. i really fail to see the necessity of the foie gras, but it was nice anyway. i think it should have been crispier on the outside, for more textural contrast. in case you haven't noticed, i'm a big believer in contrast, be it textural or flavorwise. i think a little bit of something acidic or sweet would have balanced the dish better - a bit of pickled ginger, or a little bit of rice vinegar. and in fact, soup dumplings are served with pickled veg and vinegar.
the main course that i got was chicken with a white truffle sauce, asparagus, and pig's foot. in all reality, there were more interesting things on the menu with respect to flavor combinations, but i saw pig's foot and my decision was made for me. you know i love any kind of pork product. j had roasted lamb tenderloin with szechuan peppercorns and some other accompaniments. i thought the chicken was quite good - certainly it was roasted very deftly, with the requisite crackly skin and tender interior, though not too tender. it turned out that the pigs foot was diced - both gelatinous tendon and meat - and the chicken was resting on top of it. it was pretty good, but i thought it was a little unadventurous for the merits of pig's feet. i know that most chicken dishes on restaurant menus are for the unadventurous, but i always hope the chicken is good anyway. and this was good - above average, really - but i felt a little like it was just very good bistro fare. j's lamb tenderloin was great, though - perfectly cooked and really interesting spices.
ok, dessert: j didn't feel like dessert, but i do like to have dessert anytime i go out - i've got a sweet tooth just like everyone else. desserts looked pretty standard, but i got the poppyseed bread and butter pudding with lemon curd. i've made a lot of bread puddings and eaten a lot of them at restaurants, and the best one used to be a tie between a chocolate bread pudding i make and a white chocolate-blueberry bread pudding i had once at central kitchen. this one has joined the top ranks - it had a crispy top layer of bread cubes, and a bottom layer that was saturated with egg and had perfect custard consistency. the lemon curd was a nice touch, too - this is not a new flavor combination, but its use in a bread pudding was great. and to go back to textural contrast, having the crunchier top and mooshy bottom was pretty awesome.
after the table had been cleared, we got one last course of mignardises, like at the french laundry. or the tiny cookies that perilla gives you...with the bill. i'd advise you to skip the ones here. we had a mango popsicle, crystallized ginger, and a mint chocolate truffle (two of each). all three were too sweet - i think the mango should have been more like a frozen sherbert, though the crystallized ginger was definitely the best i've had, with quite a kick to it. i found the truffle to be too sweet as well, which is just a waste of good chocolate.
overall, i enjoyed my dinner at annisa because of the good company, and great ambiance on the restaurant's part. but if we're talking food, i can think of a lot of restaurants in boston that are better. the menu here is supposed to be asian-inspired, but it's a bit lackadaisical in its inspirations. although i'm sure this isn't the case, it felt to me like the chef has a rather one-dimensional perspective on asian flavors, because they really are kind of staid. i don't know if i'll be back - perilla is a lot more honest with itself about what it is, and how far it's reaching - but it was, despite everything, a lovely evening.
--
side note: i'm going to per se tomorrow for lunch! i'm excited, because i'm curious to know how it compares to the french laundry. i know this is an expensive way to find out, especially with the increases in food prices, but it's now or never - turns out jessica is visiting this weekend and there was an open spot in her reservation. awesome. i wish i could bring myself to take photos, but i just can't be that annoying girl.
when i was in chicago, i always felt awkward having dinner by myself - i always have that problem, when not in cambridge, where i can't find people who share my predilection for eating out at nice restaurants. luckily i have (a) grown out of this phase; (b) know a couple of people who will go with me on occasion; and (c) feel more comfortable eating out by myself in new york than in most cities. it's also true that i'm a student and can't afford a whole lot of nice dinners, but this summer i'm in new york and i want to make the most of it. this is partly why i currently have three jobs (yeah, don't ask...i just have trouble saying no).
most of the time, though, i do prefer to eat out with other people. yesterday's partner in crime: j, who lives in brooklyn and is also interning this summer. we went to annisa, which is actually just a few blocks from my apartment. additional sidebar: i feel really weird when i come and go from my apartment since it's right in the middle of a busy, trendy area - all of these people have come to the neighborhood to go out, and i'm going up to my apartment to stay in because i don't feel like going out when everybody else is out too. yes, i am living in new york despite my aversion to large crowds of people. i'm avoiding times square like the plague.
dinner at annisa brought up an interesting question: what do you value more, the company you have at dinner, or the food itself, and how does that affect how you perceive the dining experience you had? for me, it's a little complicated. i usually pick a place because there's something interesting about the food - chez henri, for example, has french-cuban food that i have yet to try - but i also want to have good company when i'm at the restaurant. so i do want both, but there is a significance to the order of operations. and once i'm at the restaurant, good company goes a long way towards covering for subpar food. sometimes, the food is really that good - like when we went to o ya - and sometimes, just the act of going out and relaxing at dinner with someone makes you ignore any shortcomings until later.
reflecting on this a couple of days later, i think annisa falls in the latter category for me, because i found myself being really critical of the dinner itself. part of this, surely, is due to my expectations being higher for new york restaurants because of its vaunted reputation as one of the best restaurant cities in the country. i suspect that the strength of new york's food scene is more about the range of food, though. because i have been to the vast majority of restaurants worth going to in boston, and i can tell you that we eat pretty well there.
back to annisa. i had been grumpy all week, so it was really great to go to a nice restaurant that wasn't cramped and didn't rush you. with respect to service and decor, annisa does quite well. it's nothing to knock you out, but it acquits itself well notwithstanding. and we were there for over three hours, and they only rushed us once or twice at the end.
so now you've been reading for a while and you're wondering about the food, especially after this ridiculously long exposition. well, we started with an amuse bouche: a tiny little fluted cup that had chicken liver puree piped into it, topped with a couple of currants. the cup was edible - it seemed to be some sort of savory tuile, and i assume it was at least made with that technique, where the batter thins out while it bakes and then you mold it right when it comes out of the oven. i suppose it could also have been made by brushing the batter into a mold and baking it, but the batter would have to be the perfect consistency and the oven a very precise temperature in order for the batter not to pool before setting up. this was very nice, if not particularly original; it had a fantastic contrast in texture, with the crunch of the cup. and you can't argue with an amuse bouche that actually triggers an entire conversation about the joys of eating liver.
i'll mention the bread here too, since i harped on that in my review of banq. the bread is uninspired here - i prefer an amuse bouche to bread. i've thought a bit more about this and here's my position on bread at restaurants: unless it's something interesting, or particularly good quality, i don't really want it. to restaurants everywhere: i hope you're trying to impress me with your bread, because i'm paying attention. i don't need it to be spectacular, i just want it to make sense. i'll even give you an example: bringing around a roll is a ploy used at pigalle to pace your meal, so you have something to do while you wait between appetizer and main course. in general, i'm just not a big bread eater: i'm used to starting a meal with soup, an amuse bouche, salad, etc. i also prefer to eat my bread with butter, and sprinkled with sugar, and usually you don't get a sugar bowl at restaurants with the bread. i'm just not a fan of a cold roll with a hard crust to start off a dinner. exceptions to this rule: if the bread is interesting or just plain good (a la restaurant pava, or even just the soft foccacia-like bread they serve at central kitchen with hummus); if it's served with interesting accompaniments like antipasto or really good butter; if i've ordered a bowl of soup and want to pretend i'm french and wipe the bowl with the bread; if the bread is toasted; if i'm really, amazingly hungry and can't wait until the food starts arriving. that's how i feel about bread: now you know.
at annisa, they do the nondescript roll thing. not only do they come by once, they come by about every 20-30 minutes. this is nice for the people who have ordered something that they want bread with - a very saucy dish, etc - and it recognizes that your preference may change within the course of the meal. but it's also kind of annoying, in all reality, because the bread's not even that great. i can't really be mad, because i do actually appreciate that people who may feel awkward or greedy asking for more bread are accommodated. i think i'm projected my dislike of the bread itself onto the practice with which it was distributed. i mean, seriously, annisa: you can do better than this. kudos for butter being at the correct temperature, though! and it was really lovely - those shell-shaped curls of butter with gorgeous luster. you know i ate some bread just to eat it with that butter.
first course: we split an appetizer - the soup dumplings with foie gras. you know, i heard good things about these, and i was a little disappointed. first of all, the dumpling skin was the wrong one for soup dumplings - it wasn't very pliable, and it was more like a thickish wonton wrapper. i'm not an expert on soup dumplings, but i do know that the skins are stretchier and softer than these were. if they were handmade, and i hope they were, the dough was kneaded too much or the skins were undercooked. the basic preparation, before you get totally confused, was this: a square plate drizzled with some sort of soy reduction, four half-moon shaped dumplings placed on the reduction, a piece of foie gras placed on each dumpling. if you're reading "half moon shaped" and thinking "soup dumpling?" you're correct: no soup dumpling i ever ate in china or chinatown was missing its distinctive flower/fluted top. the soup dumpling technique is one i haven't tried and know would be relatively difficult to master, what with the complicated folding. so yeah, the technique, or lack thereof, annoyed me. and one of the dumplings had a hole in it already! would thomas keller have let the dish go out like that? i don't think so.
after all was said and done, though, these tasted pretty good. they needed a little bit more soup to really warrant the name soup dumpling, but the pork inside was excellent. i really fail to see the necessity of the foie gras, but it was nice anyway. i think it should have been crispier on the outside, for more textural contrast. in case you haven't noticed, i'm a big believer in contrast, be it textural or flavorwise. i think a little bit of something acidic or sweet would have balanced the dish better - a bit of pickled ginger, or a little bit of rice vinegar. and in fact, soup dumplings are served with pickled veg and vinegar.
the main course that i got was chicken with a white truffle sauce, asparagus, and pig's foot. in all reality, there were more interesting things on the menu with respect to flavor combinations, but i saw pig's foot and my decision was made for me. you know i love any kind of pork product. j had roasted lamb tenderloin with szechuan peppercorns and some other accompaniments. i thought the chicken was quite good - certainly it was roasted very deftly, with the requisite crackly skin and tender interior, though not too tender. it turned out that the pigs foot was diced - both gelatinous tendon and meat - and the chicken was resting on top of it. it was pretty good, but i thought it was a little unadventurous for the merits of pig's feet. i know that most chicken dishes on restaurant menus are for the unadventurous, but i always hope the chicken is good anyway. and this was good - above average, really - but i felt a little like it was just very good bistro fare. j's lamb tenderloin was great, though - perfectly cooked and really interesting spices.
ok, dessert: j didn't feel like dessert, but i do like to have dessert anytime i go out - i've got a sweet tooth just like everyone else. desserts looked pretty standard, but i got the poppyseed bread and butter pudding with lemon curd. i've made a lot of bread puddings and eaten a lot of them at restaurants, and the best one used to be a tie between a chocolate bread pudding i make and a white chocolate-blueberry bread pudding i had once at central kitchen. this one has joined the top ranks - it had a crispy top layer of bread cubes, and a bottom layer that was saturated with egg and had perfect custard consistency. the lemon curd was a nice touch, too - this is not a new flavor combination, but its use in a bread pudding was great. and to go back to textural contrast, having the crunchier top and mooshy bottom was pretty awesome.
after the table had been cleared, we got one last course of mignardises, like at the french laundry. or the tiny cookies that perilla gives you...with the bill. i'd advise you to skip the ones here. we had a mango popsicle, crystallized ginger, and a mint chocolate truffle (two of each). all three were too sweet - i think the mango should have been more like a frozen sherbert, though the crystallized ginger was definitely the best i've had, with quite a kick to it. i found the truffle to be too sweet as well, which is just a waste of good chocolate.
overall, i enjoyed my dinner at annisa because of the good company, and great ambiance on the restaurant's part. but if we're talking food, i can think of a lot of restaurants in boston that are better. the menu here is supposed to be asian-inspired, but it's a bit lackadaisical in its inspirations. although i'm sure this isn't the case, it felt to me like the chef has a rather one-dimensional perspective on asian flavors, because they really are kind of staid. i don't know if i'll be back - perilla is a lot more honest with itself about what it is, and how far it's reaching - but it was, despite everything, a lovely evening.
--
side note: i'm going to per se tomorrow for lunch! i'm excited, because i'm curious to know how it compares to the french laundry. i know this is an expensive way to find out, especially with the increases in food prices, but it's now or never - turns out jessica is visiting this weekend and there was an open spot in her reservation. awesome. i wish i could bring myself to take photos, but i just can't be that annoying girl.
07 juillet 2008
review: banq, thank you for trying
banq / 1375 washington street, boston / 617-451-0077 / m-sat 5:30pm-1am, sun 5:30pm-11pm / appetizers $8-12, entrees $19-26
did that title sound a little snide? too snide? yeah, it's a little snide. this is a review of banq, the new-ish restaurant on washington street, next to union bar & grille. it's located in a newly renovated building, with an interior by nader tehrani.
a few words about the interior: it's pretty cool, but here's me not really understanding the relationship of the booths, which are walled in an exotic-looking wood veneer, to the interior ceiling/landscape, which is created by cnc-routed sections of plywood that are spaced evenly to create a 3d reverse landscape. my beef with the booths: they detract from the plywood dealio, rather than enhancing your experience of it. i have to wonder if nader did just the plywood, or also the booths. i have to say that i prefer ltl's tides restaurant to banq, which seems a little too hip to me. also, these restaurant interiors always bring up the issue of how they're supposed to age. in the case of stuff like this, which is very showy and trendy, and sometimes very cool, i can't imagine that it will still be as showy and cool in ten years.
so, the food. let me start with a note about the bread. um....mini naan with a remoulade (specifically, one with sundried tomatoes that was more like an aioli) is kind of a strange bread choice, but i was willing to buy it if it was good. it wasn't. who wants to start a meal with such a doughy, heavy bread product? i assume that indian people eat naan with other things (ie rice and a main course) for a reason: thousands of years of civilization prove this point to be true. and i have had odd bread choices that have been rather unusual, most memorably at restaurant pava in newton (search this blog, you'll find my rapturous bread review), which served a very wonderful french baguette, a crispy potato thing, and a chewy roll. even sel de la terre's overrated breadbasket is better than the one at banq. and the mini naan weren't even good naan - i've had good naan, and it certainly isn't as doughy and...solid...as this was. it was served in an asian bamboo steamer basket, to boot. time to shape up, banq, or ship out: the bread makes a huge difference in how people perceive their dinner. at least address the problem of the bread and its accompaniment: the warmth of the naan melts the remoulade, making it seem even more like a buttery mayonnaise than something you'd actually want to eat. now, i know this may seem nitpicky, but first impressions go for a lot in a restaurant. while we're on the matter of first impressions: banq, please drop the stupid notes on your menu: "main course/"cosmopolitan palate"," "appetizers/"yin and yang for the soul"," etc. they're stupid and even the drunk hipsters aren't buying it.
on to the main event: we started with the coffee tossed baby back ribs (puffed rice and bamboo salad) and the lemongrass scented steamed mussels (with white wine and holy basil). both were pretty good, more so the baby back ribs, i think. the baby back ribs had just enough sauce and just enough coffee, but not too much, and while i thought the puffed rice was kind of negligible (this is one of those textural things that grant achatz must be able to do much better than banq), the bamboo salad was quite nice. not the best baby back ribs i've ever had, but quite pleasant. the mussels were ok; i thought they were lacking in lemongrass flavor/"scent." i also dislike the practice of extracting the meat from the shell, chopping it up, and stuffing it back in, having mixed it with other stuff. this practice is just a way to make us think we've gotten more than we're actually getting, and i'm telling you right now, banq, to stop it. the mussels were slightly overcooked, and while the accompanying tomato/onion relish-y thing was nice, it wasn't doing the mussels that great a favor.
the main courses fared much better: i had the fire-charred sirloin (with smoked cha choy, cilantro, and taro pave, caramelized lotus seed, creamy chanterelle sauce). to my server: do not assume that because i am a girl, i like my steak medium-rare. asshole. i like my steak rare, just like any sane person would. so, to summarize: don't assume, just ask, and avoid offending your clients. back to the steak: it was pretty good. the cha choy/cilantro/taro pave: too starchy. the caramelized lotus seed: well, kind of nice...but i'm still wondering why. the creamy chanterelle sauce: i guess i have a different conception of creamy; this was more jus-like than creamy, and was a touch too salty, but overall it was quite nice. the sirloin, however, was great with respect to flavor. i think my server only pretended to have it done rare, as it was somewhere between rare and medium rare, but i'll forgive the lapse because the flavor was so good. and there you have it, people: the bright point of the night - a steak with good flavor is always a pleasure, and harder to find than you might think.
but let's wait for banq to get a little less pretentious and scene-y before recommending it to other people. banq gets brownie points for trying interesting flavor combinations, but loses some of them (ok, most of them) for not actually pulling it off. and for obnoxious service, although the non-server (ie busboy) service was excellent. it's too bad that the restaurant doesn't do a better job on the food, given the non-traditional interior.
did that title sound a little snide? too snide? yeah, it's a little snide. this is a review of banq, the new-ish restaurant on washington street, next to union bar & grille. it's located in a newly renovated building, with an interior by nader tehrani.
a few words about the interior: it's pretty cool, but here's me not really understanding the relationship of the booths, which are walled in an exotic-looking wood veneer, to the interior ceiling/landscape, which is created by cnc-routed sections of plywood that are spaced evenly to create a 3d reverse landscape. my beef with the booths: they detract from the plywood dealio, rather than enhancing your experience of it. i have to wonder if nader did just the plywood, or also the booths. i have to say that i prefer ltl's tides restaurant to banq, which seems a little too hip to me. also, these restaurant interiors always bring up the issue of how they're supposed to age. in the case of stuff like this, which is very showy and trendy, and sometimes very cool, i can't imagine that it will still be as showy and cool in ten years.
so, the food. let me start with a note about the bread. um....mini naan with a remoulade (specifically, one with sundried tomatoes that was more like an aioli) is kind of a strange bread choice, but i was willing to buy it if it was good. it wasn't. who wants to start a meal with such a doughy, heavy bread product? i assume that indian people eat naan with other things (ie rice and a main course) for a reason: thousands of years of civilization prove this point to be true. and i have had odd bread choices that have been rather unusual, most memorably at restaurant pava in newton (search this blog, you'll find my rapturous bread review), which served a very wonderful french baguette, a crispy potato thing, and a chewy roll. even sel de la terre's overrated breadbasket is better than the one at banq. and the mini naan weren't even good naan - i've had good naan, and it certainly isn't as doughy and...solid...as this was. it was served in an asian bamboo steamer basket, to boot. time to shape up, banq, or ship out: the bread makes a huge difference in how people perceive their dinner. at least address the problem of the bread and its accompaniment: the warmth of the naan melts the remoulade, making it seem even more like a buttery mayonnaise than something you'd actually want to eat. now, i know this may seem nitpicky, but first impressions go for a lot in a restaurant. while we're on the matter of first impressions: banq, please drop the stupid notes on your menu: "main course/"cosmopolitan palate"," "appetizers/"yin and yang for the soul"," etc. they're stupid and even the drunk hipsters aren't buying it.
on to the main event: we started with the coffee tossed baby back ribs (puffed rice and bamboo salad) and the lemongrass scented steamed mussels (with white wine and holy basil). both were pretty good, more so the baby back ribs, i think. the baby back ribs had just enough sauce and just enough coffee, but not too much, and while i thought the puffed rice was kind of negligible (this is one of those textural things that grant achatz must be able to do much better than banq), the bamboo salad was quite nice. not the best baby back ribs i've ever had, but quite pleasant. the mussels were ok; i thought they were lacking in lemongrass flavor/"scent." i also dislike the practice of extracting the meat from the shell, chopping it up, and stuffing it back in, having mixed it with other stuff. this practice is just a way to make us think we've gotten more than we're actually getting, and i'm telling you right now, banq, to stop it. the mussels were slightly overcooked, and while the accompanying tomato/onion relish-y thing was nice, it wasn't doing the mussels that great a favor.
the main courses fared much better: i had the fire-charred sirloin (with smoked cha choy, cilantro, and taro pave, caramelized lotus seed, creamy chanterelle sauce). to my server: do not assume that because i am a girl, i like my steak medium-rare. asshole. i like my steak rare, just like any sane person would. so, to summarize: don't assume, just ask, and avoid offending your clients. back to the steak: it was pretty good. the cha choy/cilantro/taro pave: too starchy. the caramelized lotus seed: well, kind of nice...but i'm still wondering why. the creamy chanterelle sauce: i guess i have a different conception of creamy; this was more jus-like than creamy, and was a touch too salty, but overall it was quite nice. the sirloin, however, was great with respect to flavor. i think my server only pretended to have it done rare, as it was somewhere between rare and medium rare, but i'll forgive the lapse because the flavor was so good. and there you have it, people: the bright point of the night - a steak with good flavor is always a pleasure, and harder to find than you might think.
but let's wait for banq to get a little less pretentious and scene-y before recommending it to other people. banq gets brownie points for trying interesting flavor combinations, but loses some of them (ok, most of them) for not actually pulling it off. and for obnoxious service, although the non-server (ie busboy) service was excellent. it's too bad that the restaurant doesn't do a better job on the food, given the non-traditional interior.
03 juillet 2008
thoughts and concerns
n is coming over for an early brunch tomorrow, and as i've forgotten the files i keep on promising her, it is going to have to be good. here's what i'm thinking:
- poached eggs with some sort of cilantro or basil fake aioli, maybe some caramelized onions
- pancakes, made right with beaten egg whites, probably not by hand this time
- bacon from whole foods
- blueberry-ginger granita, depending on the availability/cost of blueberries (this could well turn into a grapefruit-ginger granita, for example. ooooh, that sounds good!)
i have to say that i'm getting really obsessed with granitas - in hot weather, they always sound so lovely, don't you think?. do you remember when i was living in seattle and neither of my roommates were really into food? and so i couldn't really cook anything unless i was intending to consume it all myself? yeah, that was a bad summer for food (though not for cherries). this summer is kind of the same so far, more just because i don't know my roommates well yet, and i'd been living with my very accommodatingly hungry cousins, so in contrast, there's quite a disparity. i wonder if people at the office would eat stuff if i brought it in. because, people, you know i'm at my unhappiest when i haven't cooked in a while. and i haven't - i've been too busy and i have no kitchen stuff of my own to be comfortable with and everything. and i need to cook. this is not even a matter for compromise. i need to plan menus, i need to cook, like i need to breathe. i need to plan the food for one of the office happy hours, because i sometimes miss being food steward, and i really think the food could be better (no offense, m and c, it's just that i operate on another food standard).
really, what i desperately need is to have a dinner party. there is a dining table in my apartment and i mean to make good use of it. god. i need to chop things, saute things, otherwise i'm gonna self-destruct.
- poached eggs with some sort of cilantro or basil fake aioli, maybe some caramelized onions
- pancakes, made right with beaten egg whites, probably not by hand this time
- bacon from whole foods
- blueberry-ginger granita, depending on the availability/cost of blueberries (this could well turn into a grapefruit-ginger granita, for example. ooooh, that sounds good!)
i have to say that i'm getting really obsessed with granitas - in hot weather, they always sound so lovely, don't you think?. do you remember when i was living in seattle and neither of my roommates were really into food? and so i couldn't really cook anything unless i was intending to consume it all myself? yeah, that was a bad summer for food (though not for cherries). this summer is kind of the same so far, more just because i don't know my roommates well yet, and i'd been living with my very accommodatingly hungry cousins, so in contrast, there's quite a disparity. i wonder if people at the office would eat stuff if i brought it in. because, people, you know i'm at my unhappiest when i haven't cooked in a while. and i haven't - i've been too busy and i have no kitchen stuff of my own to be comfortable with and everything. and i need to cook. this is not even a matter for compromise. i need to plan menus, i need to cook, like i need to breathe. i need to plan the food for one of the office happy hours, because i sometimes miss being food steward, and i really think the food could be better (no offense, m and c, it's just that i operate on another food standard).
really, what i desperately need is to have a dinner party. there is a dining table in my apartment and i mean to make good use of it. god. i need to chop things, saute things, otherwise i'm gonna self-destruct.
Inscription à :
Articles (Atom)
