Category: Eating

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Eating Food Wine

Miguel Merino

Just before vendimia 2006, I had the luxurious fortune to spend time with a great neophyte winemaker from the Rioja Alta, Miguel Merino. Solera was the host restaurant, and the guest list was put together by my feisty colleague from Frontier Imports, Mickey Vail.

The occasion was festive, what with everyone jockeying for position next to such a humble, successful winemaker. With Pedro Romero Aurora Manzanilla in hand, we chatted about wine and New York City and Spanish gastronomy. Mr. Merino looked refined, but with his ear to the ground, was immensely gracious and soft-spoken. I learned that he took over the winery on a dream and a whim, perhaps with some help from being an attorney for so many years prior. His first vintage was the glorious 1994, and he freely admits that even he could not screw that up.

Nervous energy transformed into delirious chatter, as talking with Miguel Merrino the man brought out more appreciation for the wines themselves. Mr. Merino’s opening words were aided by a few glasses of that delightful manzanilla, as he commented about his boys back home and the upcoming harvest, more importantly about how he felt about wine and the people who love it.

The 1998 Reserva was paired with a piquillo pepper stuffed with morcilla and lentils, a tapa that was fantastically crafted and a joy with the wine. Mr. Merino said that the ’98 was a bit feminine. We all agreed, partly in expectation of it to reach full maturity, and partly because we were so happy. Then came the 2000 Reserva, a fabulous poached egg atop a potato and chorizo stew, a hearty man’s appreciation for all things good in Spain. The 2000 needed more time, prompting another few words from Mr. Merino, thus far emanating a tremendous warmth in his explanation of the vintage.

Before we could make further comparisons, a plate of sea bass with pimiento chorizero was matched by the superlative 1995 Reserva, an introduction into one of the finest wines of Spain if there ever was one. Light-bodied, but full flavored, well integrated tannins and complex fruit, the 1995 was a stunner. Things were really humming now.

Exquisite lamb chops sided by potatoes Riojas and Roncal crisp proved to be an ideal pairing to the imperial 1994 reserva, a wine that had everyone swooning. A collective but unspoken “Wow!” was felt throughout the room, and everyone looked around as if searching for witnesses. The 2001 was also served as Mr. Merino felt the two vintages had tremendous similarity. Assorted Spanish cheeses and cookies were then offered with a barrel sample of the 2004 vintage. At this point I was looking for any leftover 2004 to polish off.

Mr. Merino remained affable and generous. I felt like I had a new friend in la Rioja, and anxiously accepted an invitation to visit in the future. Many good memories linger from that evening, and I scrambled home to see if I was smart enough to put away any of the ’94 or 95’ bottles. Chef Danilo Paulino put on a superb show, and the service and course of events were masterfully orchestrated by Maitre d’ Ron Miller. Solera is an excellent choice for fine Spanish dining, and I will be looking forward to reviewing it in the future.

Categories
Eating

Dirty Dirty

Many chefs look towards franchising to make their mint, attaching their household names to everything from pots and pans to knives and cooking appliances. The recent trend is for chefs to open basic food joints such as Zip Burger and the Shake Shack. Award winning chefs Allison Vines-Rushing and her husband Slade give free-range chicken a whirl at this cozy 14th Street take-out spot two blocks removed from the meat-packing district.

A respite from the day to day operations at their restaurant in Abita, LA, they’ve partnered up with Joseph Ciriello who used to sell Italian wines to the couple at the oyster bar. The result is southern-inspired fast food, with an emphasis on soulful comfort.

The up to date kitchen yields a simple, yet satisfying menu of chicken, either fried or slow-roasted. The chefs use organic chickens, which they brine, soak in buttermilk and fry in a double batter. Sides include dirty rice, for which the store is named, light macaroni and cheese, napa cabbage cole slaw, slow-roasted potatoes or vegetables.

You can get Ali’s chopped salad too, with a list of great ingredients like piquillo peppers, tomatillos and maytag blue cheese. The cornbread is served flat with the welcome added surprise of shallots. In addition there are chicken fingers which are quite addicting.

More and more of these gourmet stops need to be opened and supported, if we are to finally rid ourselves from the terrible fast food options we have become accustomed to in our fair city.

Categories
Eating

Soup’s Ahoy

The original Soupman is now in Harlem, just in time for September breezes and rains. Made popular by that famous Seinfeld episode, the Harlem store is smack dab on 130th street on the wide boulevard known as Lenox Avenue, and has everything the Yemeni is renowned for, minus the attitude.

You can sample many of the soups before you order, and this may only serve to confuse matters even further, as they are all hearty and tasty. There is a sandwich/salad and soup special too, although you’d be better off just sticking with the sublime soups.

Of the revolving choices, there is mushroom barley, turkey chili, seafood gumbo, five bean chili, jambalaya, broccoli and cheese, crab bisque, shrimp bisque, and lobster bisque. The bisques are crafted with just a touch of cream and cost a bit more, but deservedly so. The average meal will run you about ten dollars. There’s even soup to go, at alarming rates, especially for the seafood options, but this may be a better alternative to six foot hero sandwiches for the Sunday football game.

The store has a few tables and resembles a chain, what with the founder’s painted portrait and logo plastered over the rear wall. Delivery is also available if you just can’t bring yourself up to 130th street, but for neighboring Harlem residences only.

Categories
Eating Experiences Food

Spain in the city

Specialty shops thrive in neighborhoods that were once delineated by the type of immigrants. In an age where every ethnic store is under attack from wealthier franchises such as Starbuck’s and Duane Reade, the survival of these shops is at critical mass. Imagine Arthur Avenue without Teitel’s, Washington Heights without bodegas, or Greenpoint without the local Polish kielbasa butcher. Curiously enough, certain countries appear underrepresented. Perhaps because a country like France is so diverse, items like olive oil is sold separately, so is chocolate, etc.

Nowadays a consumer can find ingredients over the internet, almost taking away from the pleasure of shopping in these types of general stores, where a family behind the counter and free samples are the norm.

Spain, however, has been well represented for over twenty years. Jackson Heights has been home to Despana brand products and recently has opened a Broome Street branch.

Jovial owner Marco and his lovely wife Angelica have created a slice of Spain, showcased in a trendy format, fitting for its new address.

The store is visually astounding, with black lacquered shelves opposite shiny white tiles, separated by an attractive glass casing displaying artisanal cheese and meat products. A fabulous collage of Spanish life centers the back wall, and a large leg of jamon Serrano keeps the eye on the prize. The shelves are stocked with everything from Arborio rice to honey to jams to olive oil to whatever the well-stocked Spanish kitchen should have, with little tastings offered along every step of the way. Towards the rear is a glass enclosed open kitchen where delectables are put out daily by Chef Ignacio, a great interpreter of Spanish cuisine. To the right is a small eating area, flanked by a cooler of wines, waters, and ciders. You can buy boquerones, the prized white anchovies from the Cantabrica coast, and even buy sangria pitchers or paella pans too. Whatever you don’t see on display, you can order from the Queens flagship store, and after a round of fried almonds, cheese, olives, and sausages, you’ll be hard-pressed to leave empty handed.

Aside from the traditional chorizo, there are other pork sausage products offered such as fuet, chistorra, butifarra blanca y negra. Don’t miss out.

Many tastings and classes are scheduled at Despana, and they usually are taught by an expert flown in from Spain. They should not be missed, as invariably there is a meal at the end of the rainbow, delicious and refreshing.

At a recent event, I learned much about Spanish olive oil. Categories include Hojiblanca, Picual, Arbequina, Greca Empeltre and Gold Empeltre. The Gold happens to be my favorite. It is an extra virgin olive oil that is even, smooth, silky and golden. The Greca was a bit harsh, but tasted of almonds. The Hojiblanca was strong and pungent, almost woodsy and raw. The Picual tasted of figs and was very fruity. Finally the Arbequina was medium bodied, herbal and grassy. It boasted a long finish and seemed to be the most balanced.

Then a repast followed. First a pea shoot salad with Serrano and melon balls. Then boquerones under tomatoes and anchovy paste. A stellar black mushroom risotto anchored the meal, followed by a salt cod with cured Serrano ham. A mousse in the shape of a chocolate pyramid capped things off with a few glasses of albarino as the paired wine.

Then the ham expert was on hand, giving a slicing demonstration, and offering delectable pristine, glimmering slices of jamon Serrano. He explained the slicing technique and preservation tactics. It was all quite fascinating. The ham was of course delicious.

The famous iberico de bellota (pata negra), or black footed pig will finally become available in the states, and Despana is the place to get it. These pigs dine only acorns, yielding a meat that is swirled with high levels of flavorful natural fats, tasting like no other ham in the world. The hams will prove to be very expensive, but call the store for scheduled free tastings.

Sometimes you stroll into Despana and you’re in the middle of a party, with people mingling, noshing and having a good time. That’s is what Despana is all about, promoting the culture, cuisine, and spirit of Spain, all from a modest ethnic shop.

Perhaps this is a model other stores can adapt to, keeping the claws of franchise at bay.

Categories
Eating

The Jerk, Man.

Lately, my friend Scott and I have been scouring West Harlem for new places to eat. Some might say that there are plenty of options, but alas, the road to good eats is perilous, laden with traps and disappointments.

M & G Diner had closed. For what reason exactly, vacation, renovation or for good, I do not understand. We weren’t in the mood for Sylvia’s, Amy Ruth’s, Bayou, Miss Spoonbread, and Rack and Soul. We tried the new 2010 Pier restaurant. This place was as if some Japanese business man thought it would be a good idea to open a megaspace smack in the middle of Harlem with full band and quirky design. It feels like Disney meets Captain Nemo meets Hot 97 gone awry, and with the average appetizer at $18. (@#!$^%#!), we graciously made our getaway.

The streets are dotted with delis, bodegas, hair salons, churches, fried chicken spots, and West Indian joints. Not all of them looked appetizing. Wide boulevards like ACP and FDB all the way up to 157th Street yielded the same old same old. Last night we headed to Charles Southern Fried, famous for an $11.99 buffet, but they were closed. Harlem Grill was closed too.

On 132nd Street, we settled on A & D West Indian, sporting a neon light that shone “Yard Style”. This can only mean that the jerk chicken is prepared in a converted steel drum right there on the sidewalk. Illegal, I’m sure, but proper. No place to sit unless you join the locals, so it was jerk to go.

We sat across the street on a stoop, and enjoyed the R & B tunes from a boom box regular. At the bodega I picked up some Prestige beer, a Haitian lager with a touch of toasty malt flavor, and we stared out wide into the avenue observing Harlem night life.

The jerk was excellent, not too spicy or saucy, just right.

There was a sidewalk barbecue to our right, bar patrons at P & J on our left, the West Indian diners across the way, and our gentleman friend with the boom box tacitly gave us permission to sit next to him as long as we enjoyed the music. He was drinking Bud, and I offered to buy him one. “Maybe next time,” he said.

Harlem was still, not quiet, its pulse barely beating past normal. Scott and I argued over all the changes in Harlem, and how long it would take before the city moves the real people out, what with all the new buildings at ridiculous rents going up at a record pace.

Long time spots like A & D will eventually lose its lease, and in its place a Duane Reade and a Starbuck’s. The Harlem renaissance will lose the Harlem part, good and bad.

But we figure this is a long time coming. Until then, we’ll keep trying, looking for a slice of Harlem in a neighborhood that never gives up.