At XIV in Los Angeles, a lively lounge with casual dining and tasting menus on the celebrated Sunset strip, we sampled Tapioca-Crusted Tai Snapper, Broccoli Rabe, White Soy Vinaigrette; California Lamb Skewer, Chop Meguez Sausage, Chickpea Raita; and the Liberty Duck Breast, Seared Foie Gras, Leg Confit, Pineapple Star Anise--easily the star of the already stellar line up.
My college friends and I ordered 8 plates but Michael took the liberty of sending us several more courses and we attempted to dance off our desserts at Hyde a few blocks away.
From the left coast to the right one, social dining is spreading. Who best to teach the Americans about sharing than the Spaniards? The Spanish culture thrives on loud bars and plates to share. At Tapeo on Newbury street I gathered with my business school classmates over sangria, hummus, croquettes, and orange flan. Having no seen his particular bunch of friends for about five years, my general observation of the experience can be summed up in two words: babies and bangs. One would think that the main lesson learned at our fine institution was to procreate. The bangs, on the other hand, may have been cut to hide forehead wrinkles and a hesitation to indulge in Botox.
The next morning, I ran into one of my friends and asked her how she enjoyed the evening. "I had fun, I have a hangover to prove it." Beware, sangria can do that to you.
—Divya Gugnani
XIV
8117 Sunset Blvd.
Los Angeles, CA 90046
323.656.1414
www.michaelmina.net/xiv
Tapeo Restaurant & Tapas Bar
266 Newbury Street
(between Fairfield St & Gloucester St)
Boston, MA 02116
617.267.4799
www.tapeo.com
Culinary expertise does exist outside Manhattan. Yes, I know it's hard to believe; there are restaurants that are executing on all cylinders outside the capital of the world. On a recent visit to Philadelphia, a great restaurant off the not-so-great commercial strip of South Street wowed me to great heights. James, located at 824 South 8th Street, and operated by husband and wife team Jim and Kristina Burke is no stranger to accolades. Jim Burke received the nod as one of Food & Wine's best new American chefs in 2008.
James sits in the Bella Vista neighborhood a few blocks off of bustling South Street. It rests on a small neighborhood street nestled superbly in a quiet residential area. Windows are set high, so it is hard to know what to expect until you enter through the front door. But once ushered in, the atmosphere is clean and inviting, with rich earth tones, warm greens and candlelight illuminating from various nooks and crannies. Sleek but comforting. Unfortunately, the bar, which serves as an abbreviated lounge offers only a limited menu version of the main dining area. Bar seating is preferred in my opinion, but not at the cost of a smaller menu.
After opting for the dining room we were led to a table off of the main room into a small room with two smaller tables and a larger one seated for seven. Teardrop chandeliers glistened in the early evening sun and soft lounge music drifted from the speaker over the doorway, creating a cozy atmosphere. Primitive renderings of trees bearing fruit adorn the walls. The room was charming, albeit a bit separated from the main action.
The attentive, pleasant staff immediately descended upon the table and set out to explain the philosophy of the restaurant. The Italian-inspired menu, as described, is market driven with a strong emphasis on locality and seasonality. Portions are slightly smaller and therefore a mid-course was recommended. The wine list, stressing smaller vineyards, could use a little bulking up. We were pleased with our selection of Elk Cove Pinot Gris, from Oregon, but were hard-pressed to find anything from Italy or France in the same price range.
But, with a chef-driven restaurant the focus is, or course, on the food. Our server graciously answered each and every question we threw her way, but we had a hard time deciding which item(s) to order. The sweetbreads with pickled radishes and garlic broth looked inviting, as did the Kampachi Sashimi with Grapefruit Confit. However, for our first course we opted for a James' deconstructed version of Borscht and poached Snake River Salmon with Artichokes and Summer Truffles.
We were surprised when our first course was placed in front of us. The borscht, poured tableside, didn't appear to be borscht, at all. What we received was a shallow bowl with roasted baby yellow and red beets slivers of braised oxtail and dollops of whipped sorrel. An oxtail consommé was delicately poured over these ingredients. The result was exquisite. The unctuous oxtail meat and rich consommé were offset expertly with the whipped sorrel. Delightful. The salmon wasn't as memorable, but still solid. Shaved summer truffles and braised artichoke hearts paired nicely with the rich texture of the fatty salmon.
The middle course was the highlight of the evening. The menu at James follows the Italian model, offering house made pasta as a mid-course. All of the selections looked desirable, but we opted for the Tagliatelle with Duck Ragu, Orange Zest and Shaved Chocolate. The texture of the pasta melted in our mouths, and coupled with the duck, orange and chocolate, a succession of undulating flavors. Alone, this dish is worth the trip to James.
For our main course we opted for Dover Sole in Potato Nest and Grass Fed Veal Loin with Morels and Fava Beans. The veal was prepared perfectly, but seemed uninspired. Maybe we were still reeling from the borscht and tagliatelle that led us to this conclusion. But, it is really hard to go wrong with veal, morels and fava beans together. To James' credit however, the veal had a rich, exquisite flavor.
The big disappointment came with the sole. The sole arrived wrapped in a thinly cut potato ribbon, so at first glance it resembled the shape of a Central American taco, meaning completely enclosed instead of open-faced. Placed alongside the sole was the yolk of an egg, pickled onion and a shallot confit. We were told to break the yolk and use it as the sauce. The flavor was bland and the deconstructed approach seemed a little contrived.
All in all the experience was quite pleasant. We were unable to experience dessert, but hear that the salty caramel semifreddo is superb. James is riding the current sustainable, local agriculture wave with ease and flair, even if outside the capital of the world.
—Chris Forbes
James
824 S. 8th Street
Philadelphia, PA 19147
215-629-4980
www.jameson8th.com
If I had it my way, I'd eat pasta everyday. Pasta for breakfast, pasta for lunch, some more pasta for dinner and of course, pasta as a late night snack. However, in the interest of not weighing three hundred pounds, I am forced to limit my pasta consumption to a mere two or three times a week. Isn't your heart breaking for me?
In an effort to ease my guilt over indulging in my pasta addiction, I do my best to incorporate the healthiest ingredients into my meal, hopefully to balance out the calories of the pasta. Loads of fresh, crisp veggies are probably my favorite add-in, but once my other addiction, cheese, rears its pungent head, the low-cal theme is quickly forgotten.
Several weeks ago, Lifetime TV launched a new show, "Cook Yourself Thin," themed around the concept of enjoying your favorite dishes, but tweaking the recipes to make them waistline friendly. Excitement immediately set in, as recipe tweaking to avoid guilt is a major premise in my pint-sized kitchen. Unfortunately, the episodes are about as entertaining as watching paint dry, but luckily the recipes are available online.
The first week of airing, "Cook Yourself Thin" featured a recipe for Spaghetti Carbonara which sported about half the calories as the restaurant version. Ever the skeptic, I doubted the recipe, assuming that some things just shouldn't be messed with, but wanted to find out for sure. The "Cook Yourself Thin" recipe substituted low-fat milk for butter, limited the bacon to three slices and incorporated frozen peas to add flavor and nutrition-healthy veggies. I didn't bother to look at how much cheese their recipe called for, as I knew it would be nowhere near enough for me. Although their recipe sounded good, I am stubborn enough to think I know better, so I tweaked the already tweaked dish, made a grocery list and hoped for the best.
Barilla Plus multi-grain spaghetti, turkey bacon, Le Sueur peas, pecans, and fat-free half-and-half was substituted in the recipe, making it more my style. I put the pasta pot up first, as my mini-stove takes an hour and a day to boil water. Next, I diced six slices of turkey bacon, at a mere 35 calories and 3 grams of fat per slice, and dropped the bits into a super hot frying pan. Once they were crispy, I removed them from the pan, but retained the juices to act as added flavor for sauteing the onion I had finely chopped to be added to the pan. While the onion cooked I whisked together fat-free milk, a heavy splash of fat-free half-and-half, one large egg and one large egg white. Using a combination of eggs and egg whites retains the protein, but eliminates more than half of the calories and fat. The Le Sueur peas were added to the sauteing onion a minute before the onion was translucent. Peas get mushy quick, so I just wanted to blanch them in the olive oil to slightly cook them without making my dinner into baby food.
Sipping a glass of wine (I only had one to keep the low-cal theme intact), I stared into the never boiling pot of water. The bacon pieces were put in the oven to prevent pre-dinner snacking, and finally, the boiling bubbles decided to make an appearance. Ten minutes later, I had chopped the pecans, drained the pasta, added the milk-eggs combo, stirred in the onion and peas and mixed in the bacon. To finish, I added a mound of Pecorino Romano, skipping the measurement because being thin is never worth skimping on the cheese.
Hot damn, I did it again! My tweak of the tweaked recipe was d-e-l-i-c-i-o-u-s. I could not believe that something that had such little fat and calories could be so incredibly satisfying. The multi-grain spaghetti soaked up the creamy egg/egg white and dairy mixture, giving the dish just enough liquid to be moist but not drippy. I love bacon any which way I can get it, so naturally the turkey bacon delighted my taste buds. The pecans were also a pleasant touch, as they brought protein, healthy fat and an added crunch. The sauteed onion added the most wonderful flavor, further carried over by the peas, which had also cooked in the bacon juices. This one is most definitely a keeper.
You want to know the only thing better than pasta? Leftover pasta. A pound of pasta for one person is a lot, but the leftovers in the fridge gave me savory low cal dreams (and lunches) for another three days.
At first glance, Baked appears trendy, yet another stab at the one-syllable naming convention that has been popping up lately for restaurants: Fork, Taste, Salt. But Baked isn't a fad. The direct title simply captures exactly who and what they bring to the table: baked goods. Their spin? A back-to-basics and natural approach, baking delicious toothsome treats without infusing lots of sugar and sweets.
Baked started out as a dream Renato Poliafito had while working in advertising. Poliafito envisioned opening the perfect coffee shop, and after fortuitous meeting with Matt Lewis, the founder and owner of Chocolate Bar in the West Village, his dream expanded. Their relationship started off without baker's hats; Poliafito helped design a website for Chocolate Bar. A friendship emerged, and soon after, he decided to research his goal and get experience in the restaurant business. He got a management gig at a small East Village cafe and jumped in feet first. A year later, he and Lewis decided they were ready for the next step: a bakery/coffeeshop combo, a sort-of Brooklyn offshoot to Chocolate Bar. Lewis left Chocolate Bar, and they settled on Red Hook, Brooklyn for Baked because the rent was affordable, the neighborhood up-and-coming and being off the classic "grub street" grid gave them room to experiment and learn the baking trade with less consequence. "Manhattan is on the radar so intensely" says Poliafito. "And being off the radar, we got to experiment. Our kitchen became a kind of lab. Baking is a science neither of us had real formal training in. Savory cooking is easier to correct mistakes and with baking you don't know if what you did was right until the end result, when it's done."
They also wanted a fresh take on baked goods and desserts. Tired of stodgy classic recipes, they built recipes that worked, but reflected modern times. Less sugar, more flavor. High-grade cocoas, chocolates and candies. Particularly notable, their tasty-but-not-overly rich buttercream, inspired by French and Italian meringue. "You don't have to infuse sugar to make something taste good," says Poliafito. "You want to taste the actual chocolate first."
If ingredients are king for Baked, then texture is their queen. Their multi, award-winning Sweet and Salty Cake is a dark chocolate cake infused with salty caramel, caramel chocolate ganache and topped with fleur de sel. The fleur de sel's pleasurable, salty crunch contrasts perfectly with the light cake and luscious, silky caramel. No wonder Martha Stewart asked them to appear on her show to make it. Their spin on Red Velvet Cake is called The Red Hook Red Hot and has a hint of Valrhona chocolate, layers of cinnamon and soft vanilla buttercream. Traditional "Red Hots" candies appropriately garnish the finished cake. Their Oatmeal Cookie solves the crunchy vs. soft cookie debate. Its exterior is firm, has a nice structure, yet isn't exactly a crispy cookie. It doesn't break off in your mouth right away and the chewy coconut, dried cherries pecans and white chocolate chips round out the flavor. You'll need a fork to bite into their Lemon-Lime Bar, a lemon bar upgrade with a crumbly, graham-coconut crust. A true lemon curd, it requires refrigeration and the contrast of the pillowy, zingy custard and the grainy textured crust transcends it from being just your bodega afterthought.
The only exception we tasted from Baked,'s overall not-too-sweet approach was their PB Krispy Bar. With dense, smooth peanut butter and rich milk chocolate on a bed of caramelized, crisped rice cereal, this treat packed a sugar-punch and the perfect fix for anyone with a serious sweet tooth. Tasty, could take me a few days to get through just one. Last but not least, we sampled the Banana Whoopie Pie with chocolate buttercream, another classic retrofit. Reminded me of a lighter version of banana bread spread with butter. Not a bad bite for banana bread enthusiasts, perhaps with a cup of hot coffee. I felt like a kid in candy store sampling sweet after sweet, but even after all these treats, we left Baked sated, but not weighed down.
—Christi Ciani
Baked
359 Van Brunt Street
Brooklyn, NY 11231
718.222.0345
www.bakednyc.com
The only thing that I have ever won is a goldfish at a carnival and not to be self pitying, but it died, causing me psychic trauma that outweighed the satisfaction of winning. But, this isn't a post about my lifelong struggle with contest loserdom—it's about my triumph over it. Fine. I didn't win anything, exactly. My roommate did. But I bullied her into cutting me in, so I count it as a joint victory.
A few months ago, to our shock and delight, my roommate won a two hundred dollar gift certificate to Brasserie Cognac from Behind the Burner. A few things about this, the first and most obvious being: enter the contests! People do actually win them (throughout my history of trying, I've had doubts too...)
After an ebullient freak-out session, we established that we would blow the entire thing to celebrate Miri's graduation from NYU. I should also mention our remarkable patience—Miri won the gift certificate in February and we waited until well into May to use it. In the months leading up to our dinner date, we had ample time to get familiar with Brasserie Cognac. While I won't outwardly admit that I spent a significant chunk of time deciding between bottles of Sancerre on the website, it might have happened. By the actual day, both of us had committed Brasserie Cognac's French bistro menu to memory. Terrines of foie gras and filet mignon flambé danced in my head.
As part Vittorio Assaf's Serafina empire, Brasserie Cognac is not fancy. But, we agreed that you can't drop multiple hundreds of dollars on dinner in regular clothes. So, we strapped on heels that neither of us had worn since New Year's and tottered through the entrance in sophisticated little dresses. Wearing cocktail attire to a casual restaurant can be tricky to pull off. Luckily, any concerns about being overdressed dissolved in the first bottle of wine we ordered.
Wine is really where this gastronomical adventure begins. As I mentioned before, I had my eye on a bottle of Sancerre. But the waiter, clearly not seeing a sales opportunity, kept steering us towards bottles of cheap New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc. (Was it the cocktail dresses?). Not to be deterred (or offended), we ordered a marginally less expensive bottle of New Zealand Sauvignon Blancfrom the Loire Valley to start.
Although I was obviously excited about the prospect of spending the gift certificate, I had some reservations about the food. Brasserie Cognac exists on a stretch of Broadway that leads out of Times Square towards a desolate clump of office buildings. It also has a sushi bar, which seems to be a desperate and ill-conceived attempt at hipness. In my less optimistic moments, I imagined tables filled with middle management guys in loosened ties and checked shirts munching on California rolls and sawing away at overdone steaks.
In an attempt to avoid the sushi bar altogether, we started out with shrimp cocktail. It became clear on arrival, however, that the shrimp were prepared at the sushi bar. I'm usually a purist when it comes to the classics, but the artfully butterflied shrimp coated with thick swishes of cocktail sauce hit the spot. Next, we ordered a deceptively simple goat cheese and tomato tart. Savory pies can be a mess of leaden crust and bland fillings, but Brasserie Cognac's flaky, buttery puffed pastry enclosed zingy roasted tomatoes, dabs of salty goat cheese and a sprinkling of thyme—we ate an appetizer that was probably intended for four in under ten minutes.
After polishing off the first bottle of wine, we started to get a little more extravagant. Out of principle, I ordered filet mignon and Miri got lobster. But, nothing could have prepared us for the spectacle that followed. When they wheeled out a white-tablecloth draped cart, I assumed that they were deboning someone's duck a l'orange tableside—nothing unusual. Then, they set our entrées on fire. My immediate reaction was to grimace like an embarrassed thirteen year old and curl into a fetal position. In the spirit of the evening, though, I kept my head above the table. In fact, I actually got into it. What's the point of spending a phenomenal amount of money on dinner, if the waiter doesn't bring a flaming steak to your table?
The details get a little blurry at this point, but if my memory serves me well (which it might not), we devoured a plate of perfectly executed profiteroles scattered with slivered almonds and oozing chocolate sauce. Then, with dessert all over our faces, we continued to finish a second bottle of wine, cash in the gift certificate and stumble out into the night stuffed to the gills with bistro food and emitting French wine from our pores. Before calling it a night, we stopped to chat with a hedge fund manager outside of Serafina. Somehow in the span of ten minutes, one of us had called him fat and the other had agreed to make out with him in the bathroom. It was time to go home.
Through this experience, I learned an important lesson: winning is awesome—the bigger the win, the better. However, it also leaves the winner with a sea of unfulfilled desires to contend with after the whole thing is over. From now on, I'm always going to be a little disappointed when the falafel place around the corner drops our food on the table without flambéing it first and I'll feel a pang of nostalgia whenever I order the second cheapest bottle on the wine list. But, that doesn't mean I'm going to stop entering every Web sweepstakes I get in my inbox anytime soon...
Brasserie Cognac
1740 Broadway
New York, NY 10019
212.757.3600
www.cognacrestaurant.com
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