Something My Wife Whipped Up, #1

The wife's always good at whipping up something out of nothing.

Impromptu Toasted Crab

Squirt a little Dijon mustard and drizzle a little olive oil into a salad bowl, and whisk until combined. Toss in one whole Cucumber, chunked; then add a little bit of Feta cheese, a can of Lump Crab Meat, a generous handful each of Fresh Spinach and Fresh chopped Broccolini, some chopped Cilantro, and a few tablespoons of Black Beans. Add ground red and black pepper. Toss with red-headed élan.

Melt a slice of Manchego Cheese onto both halves of four toasted English muffins. Scoop out Crab Salad mixture onto English muffin halves, for four tasty little sandwiches. Enjoy with a glass of Artesa Sauvignon Blanc, or another dry, citrusy California white.

12 Eateries in 12 Months, Part I

Over the past twelve months, we have enjoyed a wide variety of dining experiences – from wine and cheese with Amy and Steven at The Point in Corona del Mar to Ben’s seafood boil on the back deck in Corolla, from champagne and gobelins at Le Bar du Plaza Athénée (near the Seine) to schnitzel and weisswurst in the basement of the Shawnee Presbyterian Church (near the Delaware). Actually, to be perfectly frank, the wife didn’t really "enjoy" that last one so much.

At any rate, along the way, we discovered a few new restaurants, and rediscovered some old favorites. Here’s 12 Eateries, more or less, in 12 Months:

1. Last February, we were hanging out in Philadelphia for my birthday. We will always have a soft spot in our hearts for Davio’s, site of an early romantic evening for us, but on this particular trip we literally stumbled in from the freezing cold at Sotto Varalli. Located in Philly’s theater district, Sotto Varalli is comfortably intimate, with imaginatively prepared seafood and a side dish of live jazz. We shared some fresh shucked oysters and a couple of dirty martinis, and I had the whole fish of the day, roasted with fennel, tomatoes, celery leaves, Yukon potatoes, lemon and extra virgin olive oil. Topping it all off, for dessert – a couple of scoops of the extraordinary gelato made by nearby Capogiro, Philadelphia’s own gelato artisans. Try the Bacio (chocolate-hazelnut) or, for something a little edgier, the Lime Cilantro.
2. We enjoyed a trip to London last May, for a friend’s wedding. The old cliché about London is that British food is terrible. Having lived there for a couple of years earlier in this decade, however, I can tell you that, cuisine-wise, London ain’t your father’s Old London anymore – the city now boasts some of the best restaurants in the world. We didn’t go out of our way to visit the justly-praised Terence Conran establishments, or Jamie Oliver’s Fifteen, though. Instead, we chowed down more casually at Wagamama, the now-ubiquitous noodle bar that typifies the trickle-down effect of London’s explosion of cuisine. The Soho and Covent Garden locations were old haunts of mine, but this time the wife and I enjoyed lunch at the Tower Hill spot. Seating is family style, in a modernized echo of the best tradition of British chop houses, on long pine-and-aluminum bench tables, and the atmosphere is always bright, noisy and cheery. My long-standing favorite Wagamama dish is the Yaki Soba – “teppan-fried soba noodles with egg, chicken, shrimps, onions, green and red peppers, beansprouts and spring onions, garnished with black and white sesame seeds, fried shallots and red ginger” – with a bottle of Asahi Super Dry. The wife enjoyed the Seafood Ramen and some fancy fresh juice, while we shared some excellent gyoza. (Watch for two new Wagamama locations, the first in the U.S., opening in Boston later this year.)
3. Osteria Basilico was a cramped but gregarious little gem we found in Notting Hill. Free yourself from all notions of personal space, embrace a spontaneous and lively sense of community with strangers, and you’ll do fine here. We spelunked our way through the narrow passages between the tiny, rustic dining tables to the antipasti buffet for starters, and it was definitely worth the trek: a tasty selection of cheeses, grilled vegetables, cured meats and olives, and insalata pomodoro. The entrees are hearty, pastoral Italian favorites, such as Ossobuco with Saffron Risotto, Homemade Tortelloni filled with spinach and ricotta and topped with tomato and fresh basil, and my choice for the evening, the Char-grilled Lamb Cutlets, with roasted vegetables and pine kernels. Add a couple of bottles of Barolo and a pair of good friends from Yorkshire, and you have yourself a great evening out.
4. Paris offers tasty treats everywhere you look. For the mother of all splurges, however, on the recommendation of my wife's aunt we had to try Lasserre, on Avenue de Franklin Roosevelt, near the Champs-Elysees. With its gilt-trimmed décor and sober decorum, its almost pathologically attentive service, as well as in its classic menu and extraordinary wine cellar, Lasserre is the height of Old World French elegance. Opened in 1937 by Rene Lasserre, who passed away at age 93 only a few weeks before we visited, the restaurant was once an international celebrity haunt whose regulars included Dali, Malraux (who has a pigeon entrée there named in his honor), Audrey Hepburn and Marlene Dietrich; it has, in its old age, become a celebrity in and of itself. It was a drizzly evening in May when we were there, but the staff did us the favor of opening the retractable roof for a moment, giving us a peek at the clouds above Paris and a sense of what it must have been like to dine under the stars, with the stars, once upon a time. The old standbys – the duck a l’orange and so forth – can still be found on the menu, but hidden among them are updated surprises, such as the mouth-watering delicate Macaroni with foie gras and truffles, the Chablis-flavored oysters, and the Lemon-and-Ginger Côte deVeau. The wines are priced comparably to nights in a luxury hotel, but the good news is that the more you drink, the less you’ll worry about the bill when it’s all over.
5. The wife spent more evenings out together in Washington, D.C. during our dating days than anywhere else, so we’ve developed a number of comfortable favorites there, including the Old Ebbitt Grill (the site of our post-wedding day brunch), Johnny’s Half Shell (in its old location in DuPont Circle) and Firefly. On one of our recent returns to D.C., however, we went with some good friends to a place that wasn’t even open when we were Capital regulars – Agraria, at Washington Harbour. Opened by the North Dakota Farmers Union in June “with the intent to promote and enable the American family farmer to capture a greater share of the food dollar,” the Washington Post called this restaurant a “culinary lobbying campaign,” situated on K Street as a constant reminder of the plight of the American family farmer. Don’t let the agricultural collective talk scare you away, though: the restaurant is beautifully appointed with an elegant minimalist design, and its Transcendental American fare is first-rate. We were there less than two months after it opened, a notoriously shaky time in the life of any restaurant, but we were willing to overlook minor gaps in service for the Cabbage Soup (with white beans, carrots and potatoes); the Beef Carpaccio (with arugula, parmesan, black pepper, olive oil and lemon); the grass-fed Rib-Eye Steak; the Buttermilk Mashed Potatoes; and the Scallops in bouillabaisse sauce with baby fennel. Desserts are mighty fine, too, including the Cocoanut Bread Pudding and Chocolate Terrine.
6. In Las Vegas, of all places -- on the fringes of the great ringing and ch-ching-ing of the slots midway at Caesar’s Palace, a few paces away from all the chintzy plaid and glitter on the folks lining up to see Celine Dion in her Colosseum -- there is an unexpectedly refined and stylish eatery that gave us one of our most memorable dining experiences of the year, Bradley Ogden. Ogden, of course, has gained renown as a Bay Area chef-restaurateur, but his Las Vegas location truly seems to have knocked the establishment food critics for a loop; it was the only restaurant outside of New York to be nominated for the coveted James Beard “Best New Restaurant” award in 2003, and it beat ‘em all. The polished stone, glass and dark wooden beams of the sleek interior are evocative of Frank Lloyd Wright’s contemplative, organic Post-Prairie Style, which had the overall effect of spiritually transporting us far from the garish effrontery of the faux Roman motifs inside Caesar’s. The waiters, elegantly attired in gray suits and ties, are true professionals of the sort you rarely find in American restaurants. Our gentleman was extraordinarily well-informed about every facet of the restaurant, and a good listener, too; having quickly identified us as foodies, he gave us a tour of the kitchen at the end of the evening. And speaking of the food … it’s New American cuisine, upscale comfort food, meticulously presented for the eye as well as for the palate. We enjoyed a course of Oysters, unveiled in five imaginative tableaux; Farmer’s Market salad; Wood-fired Pork Loin; and to top it all off, an Apple Cobbler with custardy Homemade Vanilla Ice Cream.

See Part II.

12 Eateries in 12 Months, Part II

See Part I.

7. I grew up on rustic Southern California Mexican food, prepared by little old ladies in stifling kitchens inside little old East-of-East-LA holes-in-the-wall, so I’m always a little amused these days at how gentrified the whole Mexican cuisine scene has become. A happy case in point, though … tucked away near the Back Bay of Newport Beach -- in a strip mall, no less -- is a brightly-decorated and cozy joint called Taco Rosa. It’s really quite unpretentious; even if it claims to purvey “Spanish, French and Southwestern” food, it is mostly imaginative pan-Mexican cuisine, bursting at the seams with fresh ingredients and interesting taste combinations, from Oaxacan Pollo en Mole to Yucatanean Baked Carnitas Pibil to coastal Escabeche (pickled vegetable salad). Although the owners of Taco Rosa go to great lengths to remind people that Mexican cuisine is more than just tacos, burritos and enchiladas, their handling of the standard fare is pretty irresistible. One great favorite that my wife enjoyed is the Burrito Arizona, comprised of lobster, sautéed with spinach, mushrooms, red onions and tomatoes, wrapped in a whole wheat tortilla and topped with chipotle guajillo, tomatillo and tequila lime cream sauces.

8. We’re always a little skeptical of restaurants with great views – as a rule, they don’t have to try as hard in the kitchen if they know the view will keep ‘em coming. Along California’s Highway 1, however, there is a beautiful vista around every bend -- and yet, when we must eat, we must eat. Fortunately, Nepenthe is a wonderful exception to the rule. Situated high atop an 800-foot Big Sur ocean overlook, Nepenthe is built on the site of an impromptu World War II-era picnic that turned into a real estate deal for two Hollywood newlyweds, Orson Welles and Rita Hayworth. They grew tired of it, and each other, before much could come of it; so they sold it to the enterprising Fassett family, who hired Frank Lloyd Wright apprentice Rowan Maiden to build them a beautiful romantic retreat, from which they opened their restaurant in 1949. The fare is fresh and unfussy; specialties include the fat Ambrosiaburger and a pair of great salads, the Heirloom Tomato and Mozzarella Salad (with mache, frisee and arugula, dressed with sweet corn and basil vinaigrette) and the Three-Way Salad (a combination of garbanzo-bean salad, cole slaw and tossed greens; though they won’t say it, I suspect that the concept must have been inspired by the predilections of Nepenthe’s famous neighbor, writer Henry Miller). The wife enjoyed a house-cured salmon plate, and we both found Nepenthe’s Basket of Fries to be the perfect snack before hitting the rest of that great winding road.

9. Who goes to Napa Valley for the food? It’s a fair point; but nevertheless, amid the beautiful vineyards, there’s some pretty darn good meals to be had. I had an Ahi Tuna Salad at the Rutherford Grill (a cousin of Gulfstream, one of our Newport Beach favorites) that I’d be happy to nominate for salad of the year. However, the main attraction around these parts is the venerable La Toque, the intimate Country Cal-French restaurant that is attached to the Rancho Caymus Inn in Rutherford. For people who love good wine and love good food, the innovative wine-and-food pairing experience is heavenly: a five course prix-fixe menu (six, if you count the optional cheese course, which we did), with each course accompanied by a wine specially-chosen by in-house sommelier Scott Tracey. Although we love Napa wines, we were also pleasantly surprised to see Tracey going off the reservation, occasionally pairing our courses with a French sauterne or an Austrian Brundlmayer when the spirit moved him. The wife had the Tomato Soup, Marinated Black Cod, Ravioli topped with White Truffle (shaved tableside with much ceremony), Kobe Beef and Chocolate Gateau; while I had the Foie gras, the Cod, Twice-Cooked Pork, Salmon with Polenta Fries and the Apple Galette Tort with Buttermilk Ice Cream. And we both had a really good night’s sleep afterwards.

10. Just after Thanksgiving we gathered the whole clan (22 of us, if I’m counting correctly) for a celebration of my wife's grandfather’s 90^th birthday at Steve and Cookie’s, in Margate, New Jersey, on the bay side of the island. The food is no-nonsense – crab cakes, steak, meatloaf – and we opted for set menu (a choice between filet mignon and salmon), a boatload of wine, and numerous fulsome toasts to the health of the fellow who will no doubt outlive us all. When the wife looks around the place, inevitably she thinks of christenings, showers, friends’ weddings … sometimes a restaurant can be a favorite simply because it has become an extension of your household. In a similar vein, the family has come to rely on Dino’s Sub & Pizza, a few blocks away, as an extra set of kitchen hands. No idea what to have for lunch? Let’s order subs. Lizanne’s coming in from Boston? Let’s order subs. Hangover this morning? Let’s order subs. The wife likes the grilled veggie with provolone, while I usually opt for the cheesesteak with grilled onions, both with lots of hot peppers on the side.


11. We couldn’t find a mediocre meal in Asheville, North Carolina earlier this month. Limone’s, a Mexican-Californian joint on Eagle Street, offered a giant selection of Tequilas, and a tasty entremesa of Goat Cheese Poblano Pepper Empanadas, while the Sunny Point Café seems to be Asheville’s definitive breakfast place, featuring locally-grown goods, a mellow bohemian clientele, a killer Pecan-Encrusted Fried Green Tomato Sandwich and life-affirming plates of Huevos Rancheros. (We were tempted by the Sunny Point Oatmeal Brulle and the Cocoanut Pancakes, but it was just the wrong time of day for a smorgasbord.) One of the other bright spots was a breezy little bistro in Biltmore Village called Fig, which co-owner Treavis Taylor told us stands for “Food is Good.” And it is: a contemporary blend of French, American and Italian tastes, we had Mussels in a Curry Broth, Lemon Risotto with Rock Shrimp, Free-Range Chicken Breast over Lemon-Lime Cous Cous, and Fried Veal Sweetbreads, all accompanied by an excellent wine list and a friendly, informative staff.

12. For my birthday this year, we had dinner with good friends at one of my favorite Pittsburgh area restaurants -- Vivo, a small, romantic BYOB Italian restaurant situated in the unlikeliest of locales, the bland and unassuming North Pittsburgh neighborhood of Bellevue. Once inside, you can easily forget that you’re on a street otherwise populated by an inordinate number of funeral homes and chiropractors; comfy chairs, muted lighting and terracotta-washed walls covered with black-and-white family photos give us the feeling of having a meal in someone’s old Italian rowhouse. The menu is a waitress’ unprinted monologue of seven starters and seven entrees that changes daily, and the overall experience features the appetizer course (we had Fresh Oysters and a splendid Three-Mushroom and Chorizo concoction), then a small plate of pasta, followed by the entrée (among our crew, there was veal, lobster, lamb and beef, each prepared with personality and panache) and the salad course. Side dishes are served with the entrée at room temperature, antipasto style, and on the night we were there, chef/owner Sam DiBattista had outdone himself with the Wheat Berries and the Green Beans. We capped our meal with a dessert of berries and cannoli filling pressed between two vanilla pixelles – which is about as great a birthday present as I can think of.

Golden Arches

Dick McDonald, co-founder (with brother Mac) of the original McDonald's drive-in fast-food hamburger stand in 1948, was born on this day in 1909.

Brothers Dick and Mac McDonald were tired of paying car hops and dishwashers at the hamburger restaurant they owned in 1940, so on the eve of the car boom in suburban Southern California, they designed a new kind of restaurant, with a small standardized menu, unprecedentedly fast service (under a minute), low prices (15-cent hamburgers, 10-cent french fries), no waitresses and no tipping -- fast food, to go, for a go-go-go culture. By 1952, the reborn McDonald's restaurant was so successful that it was featured on the cover of American Restaurant magazine and could boast 6 million hamburgers sold.

Mac, as operations chief, came up with the idea for a no-frills burger assembly line (inspired ultimately by Henry Ford's assembly line for the Model T) that came to be McDonald's, just as Henry Ford's vision of a car-clogged American countryside was coming to fruition after World War II.

While Mac was designing the burger assembly line, Dick was the marketing whiz. Dissatisfied with an architect's rendering of the proposed restaurant, Dick sketched the "M" which became the world famous "golden arches" -- at once historically the symbol for money used by Karl Marx as well as the symbol for "millions," now erected in bright yellow neon around the world, transformed into a symbol for American economic imperialism by the end of the 20th century as McDonald's marched triumphantly into 91 countries.

Before that could happen, though ... in 1955, Ray Kroc bought the rights to franchise and develop McDonald’s drive-ins in the U.S., and in 1961 came back for the entire package – trademarks, test secrets, and the McDonald’s system, along with the worldwide franchise rights -- for $2.7 million. The McDonald brothers kept their original store in San Bernardino, renaming it Mac's Place (since they no longer owned their own name), but the restaurant was eventually put out of business by the megalomaniacal Kroc, who opened a McDonald's across the street.

For his own part, Dick McDonald never seemed to mind the fact that $2.7 million in hindsight looked like a discount price, or the closing of his San Bernardino place -- what he minded was the rewriting of history: "Suddenly, after we sold," said McDonald, "my golly, he elevated himself to the founder."

Dick McDonald died on July 14, 1998 in Manchester, New Hampshire.

Berlanga

Tomas de Berlanga, a Dominican friar and bishop of Panama, died on this day in 1551 in Berlanga, Spain.

Berlanga made a career out of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. As bishop of Panama, he was directed by Charles V to go to Peru to intercede in the conflict between the joint captains of the newly established Spanish colony in Peru, Francisco Pizzaro and Diego de Amalgro. On his way from Panama to Peru, however, his ship went off course and drifted out into the Pacific Ocean, where he accidentally discovered the Galapagos Islands -- a collection of desolate lava piles which would become important 300 years later in the works of Charles Darwin, whose writings would shake the foundations of the Church which sponsored Berlanga's mission. By the time Berlanga reached Peru, Pizzaro had already sent Amalgro to Chile, rendering fruitless any attempt by Berlanga to arbitrate their dispute. Pizzaro later had Amalgro put to death.

Speaking of fruit, a persistent legend holds that Berlanga is responsible for the cultivation of bananas in the New World, having picked them up in an unscheduled stop in the Canary Islands on his way from Spain to Santa Domingo.

Food and Drink, and My Baby and Me

I've often said that among the things that brought my wife and I together are a mutual appreciation for fresh seafood, particularly sushi and oysters on the half shell, and a good stiff drink here and there. In honor of my dear redhead's birthday today (don't worry, dear, there'll be gifts to unwrap later), I note the important contributions of two fellow November 3 birthdays to the wonderful worlds of food and drink.

On the side of liquid lubrication, today is the 119th anniversary of the birth of Manhattan lawyer and cocktail enthusiast David Embury. Embury, as readers of this space will recall, was a senior tax attorney with the venerable firm of Curtis, Mallet-Prevost, Colt and Mosle, but is better remembered as the author of The Fine Art of Mixing Drinks (1948). See my previous post, "Cocktail Rules," for a brief review of that excellent and highly recommended work. Mr. Embury was born on this day in 1886 in Pine Woods, New York, and passed away on July 6, 1960 in New Rochelle, New York.

From the world of food, today is the 287th anniversary of the birth of British Secretary of State and First Lord of the Admiralty John Montagu, better known as the 4th Earl of Sandwich. Educated at Eton and Cambridge, Sandwich took his seat in the House of Lords at age 21 and became a commissioner of the Admiralty. In 1763, he garnered some bad publicity over his role in the prosecution of his former drinking buddy, John Wilkes, on charges of obscenity, earning the turncoat nickname of "Jemmy Twitcher," from John Gay's The Beggar's Opera. This and a rather notorious affair with a 17-year old singer named Martha Ray who was later shot and killed by a jealous suitor seem to have made him unpopular, a fact which may have unfairly obscured his genuine accomplishments. His two turns as First Lord of the Admiralty are generally considered to have been unsuccessful, his enemies charging that under his watch unseaworthy, poorly equipped ships were sent into battle -- although some commentators observe that, while his administration may have been corrupt, the real problem was that he was shackled by the tight budget given to the Navy by Lord North. One mariner, Captain James Cook, certainly appreciated his administration, and named the Sandwich Islands after him, but they were later to be renamed as the Hawaiian Islands.

Sandwich's surest claim to fame (apart from being portrayed by Bill Murray in a memorable SNL sketch which featured the deathless line, "Give me a Sandwich and a Douchebag, and there is nothing I cannot do") -- is the invention of the sandwich, a toasted bread-and-salt beef convenience food he is said to have concocted in order to enjoy a meal without the necessity of leaving the gambling table; apologists point out it was just as likely that he enjoyed his fast-food while working long hours at his desk in the Admiralty.

Despite his connection with the Admiralty, unfortunately there is no evidence that Sandwich ever tried putting fried haddock, or any other sea creature for that matter, between two pieces of bread.