Category: Experiences

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Drinking Eating Experiences The Chef Travel

Cana

As promised, the next few blogs will be about my trip to Spain. I’ve let memories marinate for some time while in New York, and admit that I am having a hard time adjusting (the whole work thing), but am glad to be home at Pata Negra – I hope you visited while I was away.

My trip can be broken into three parts. Part one was to check out the tapas scene. Part two was a trip to wine country with my friend El Capitan, acting as a sort of translator/travel companion, and part three was to visit some of my old pals.

The only thing that could stave off the heat in Madrid was beer, and lots of it. No thoughts about wine, just cañas, perfectly poured tiny glasses of cold, frothed refreshment. This is the true Spanish way of life. Hit the post office. Reward yourself with a caña. Errands to run? How many cañas can you schedule along the way? This is the tapeo tradition. Stop at a bar, drink, say hi, consume a tapa, and hit the next spot. This is the culture that is so Spanish. And the reward is a plate of something good to nibble on. Some ham or cheese, or pork rinds, or meatballs. It is really up to the bar. Chef Jorge Arola of Gastro told me that the art of pouring a perfect cana is indeed Spanish and a pivotal part of society. I’ll go for one right now!

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Drinking Experiences The Chef

A Rush of Tempranillo to the Head

One of the travails of a professional in the wine business is to go to tastings and gather intel about wine to be used for future purchase and knowledge. There is a lot of spitting and yearning for a beer. Some importers know how to promote an event better than others. Venue, food, crowd management, and many others variables factor into what separates a good tasting from a great one.

At the forefront for some time in the Spanish wine market is Tempranillo Inc., a New York based Jorge Ordonez company, whose mission is to bring unique and distinct Spanish winemaking to the world’s cellars, retail shops, restaurants and wine bars. Part of what made the May 14th tasting so memorable was the roster of star winery representatives present. Meeting and conversing with the actual producers gives the consumer/buyer a real inside track to the wine’s intent. They are genuinely interesting people who love to talk about their wines with passion and great enthusiasm.

There was a “warm-up” tasting at Amalia restaurant in midtown which was well attended. Tasty hors d’ouevres were passed out so as to try the wines in context with food. I am a big proponent of this method of tasting because this is how the everyday person consumes wine on a daily basis. More often than not the wine needs the food to express its flavor profile, if not to enjoy it more fully.

The evening venue was top notch, the upstairs private room at Eleven Madison Park. Just the presence of Art Deco architecture and design evokes a feeling of Gotham, and is one of the reasons New York is such a charmed city.

The menu, created by executive chef Daniel Humm, featured four courses plus dessert, accompanied by the thirty or so wines slated for tasting. Herein lay the only true flaw of the evening, as the invited guests tasted through the majority of the wines accompanied by brief introductions by the winery representatives. While the added info about the wines was useful, tasting 30 wines in rapid succession does little for me to understand the wines carefully. My palate was seriously hampered by wine number twelve.

Finally, relief arrived in the form of bread and water, and after a brief seating rearrangement, the food commenced and we were allowed to bring whatever wines to the table for pairings. At my table was Mani Dawes, owner of Tinto Fino, Tia Pol, and Quinto Pino, her partner Karen, formerly Tempranillo Inc.’s golden girl, Shelley McClure of interior design, her husband Steve Flynn of September Wines & Spirits, and Amy Hopkinson, winemaker of special projects for Bodegas Juan Gil, and Jose Manuel Azofra, representative of Sierra Cantabria in Rioja. Present at other tables: Juan Muga of Muga, Rioja, Raphael Canizares winemaker of Volver in Toledo, Nathalie Leboeuf of Allende,  Maite Esteve from Marques de Gelida, Loren Gil, and Victoria Ordonez (Jorge’s sister).

With the serving of dinner finally set, we had the liberty to taste any of the wines with the ensuing courses. This was great freedom and exceptionally fun. This type of bottle sharing occurs naturally at normal meals at home.

The first course, a composed plate of Hawaiian prawns with a puree of avocado, lime and yogurt – a bright seafood dish – begs for acidity, and the Avanthia godello, Botani moscatel, and Shaya verdejo married nicely. The next offering, poached Nova Scotia Lobster with spring carrots, ginger and vadouvan granola, required a white wine with an oily mouthfeel – although the Cana albarino fared well enough.

The next course, the milk fed veal with fava beans and chanterelles is an old wine’s best friend. Many of the older vintages served improved with this pairing. My favorite red with this dish was the 2004 Allende, a Rioja with minerality. Some of the more tannic wines were too overpowering. Not so for the next plate, black angus beef tenderloin with asparagus, potato puree, and Oregon morels, the morels creating a minor shock wave of earthy excitement on the tongue. I am not a huge fan of black angus, what is sold in the supermarket with this brand often disappoints in flavor, but this preparation made me a believer. The bigger wines (Torre Muga 2005, Remrez de Ganuza 2004, Clio 2006) were in heaven here, all of their masculinity supported by the bold flavors of the black angus beef. The 2007 Almirez of Toro really shined here, as well as the Vega Sindoa blend cab/temp blend.

A Fuji Apple tarte fine with granola crumble and vanilla ice cream rounded things out, and the 2006 Jorge Ordonez Victoria moscatel from Malaga is like an ice wine with less residual sugar – breezy and delish.

The winery representatives, weary from an exhausting tour of U.S. cities, were just about finished, having missed their siestas indicative of Spanish culture. Ramon del Monte, my friend and rep. from Tempranillo Inc. brought a few of them to Pata Negra for a tapas run before the evening’s event. They had Basque cider, Estrella beer, tortilla, gambas and jamon iberico. I am only sad I could not offer them hammocks. I asked Juan Muga what he planned to do when he got back to Spain. He replied, “I will sleep for three weeks.”

After that many wines and such a fine meal, I think I will join them.

Highlights of some of the wines tasted from both events:

Torre Muga 2005
Aro 2005
Muga Prado Enea Gran Reserva 2001
Sierra Cantabria Amancio 2005
El Bosque 2006
El Punitdo 2005
Sierrra Cantabria Coleccion Privada 2006
Sierra Cantabria 2001
San Vicente 2005
Protocolo Rosado 2008
Allende 2004
Remirez de Ganuza 2004
Emilio Moro 2005
Emilio Moro Resalso 2007
Malleolus 2006
Almirez 2007
Volver 2007
Mas de Can Blau 2006
Alto Moncayo 2006
Borsao Crianza Seleccion 2006
Atteca Armas 2006
Wrongo Dongo 2007
Clio 2006
Avanthia Godello 2008
La Cana 2008
Shaya 2008
Botani 2008
Marques de Gelida Brut Res. Ecologico 2005
Urban Uco 2007

Categories
Eating Experiences The Chef

Papabubble

On a recent Sunday I decided to wake up early for a change with dim sum on my mind.  Ping’s is an obvious choice, but I headed over to Oriental Garden instead, which was different but still delicious (the service here is better than most as well).  Companioned with the Matzoh Ball Queen, we wended our way through Nolita.  The shops in Nolita evoke a similar feeling one used to sense in Soho, before the vast commercialization.  People don’t seem to be in a hurry, and shops genuinely promote artisanal designers and products.  Tucked between two tourist zones (Chinatown and Little Italy), Nolita benefits from relative anonymity in the middle.  The nabe is not high on tourist guides and the community seems to be sticking its slow developing guns.  Once the Bowery finally rids itself of the kitchen supply stores, the transformation will take shape.

Due to a tilt in the heat index, we stopped in for beers at Loreley which has a backdoor garden and a jazz brunch in progress.    The timing was right for a sweet craving, and as providence would have it, curiousity led us to Papabubble.  At first, you don’t know what the store actually specializes in.  You just get the impression something artistic and sweet is being created within.  Papabubble is Quechee meets Willy Wonka.  This eurocandy company (Barcelona) crafts whimsical candy with unusual flavor combinations, and often perform the process right before your eyes.  This joyful experience for adults and children brings true delight to the savoring of the candies.  They can cleverly custom inscribe for special occasions (at a cost).  Think gifts for anyone artfully minded and treat yourself for the rest of the week too.

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Eating Experiences Food The Chef

Hmm Hmm Hummus

As far as palate goes, I find that mine is ever-changing, evolving, but sometimes devolving, finding my tolerance and craving for certain foods tied into emotional needs and culinary curiosity.  Coming from such diverse roots, I am open to various types of cuisine, but often balk at staples I am supposed to enjoy.  Take black beans, a basic Caribbean representative at any Latino table.  I hated the stuff until my late twenties.  My grandmother, who is part Syrian/Lebanese, filled our meals with Arab delicacies like kibbe and stuffed grape leaves.  But I seldom found myself in a hummus parlor or craving falafel or babaganush.  There are better ways to serve meat in my opinion than kebabs, and as an opponent of vegetarianism (don’t even mention the other V word), I foolishly associated this cooking to be unfulfilling.
Recently, I have had numerous hankerings for Middle Eastern and Indian comfort food, choices which were always at the bottom of my list in the past.  What sparked my revolution is tough to pinpoint.  Intellectually speaking I must broaden my horizons to be considered a true foodie (although monkey brains I am staying clear).  My appetite drives me, as my grandfather loves to point out – I am a slave of food and wine.

Start out at the best places possible – I think – so at least I have given a particular food its due at or near its peak performance.  The same doesn’t hold for wine, by the way.  I drank Yellow Tail like everyone else, and my tastes continue to evolve with each glass.  But I am glad I started at the bottom first so I can appreciate superior products later.

On a tip from my friend Evan, I headed over to Hell’s Kitchen (that’s right, Clinton was a President, not this neighborhood) to Gazala Place on ninth avenue.  The cuisine is labeled as Druze, originating from the mountains of Syria, Israel and Lebanon which features much of the same standard fare one would find at a hummus parlor, plus a bonus of crepe-like pitas and pastries which are crafted on a griddle called a saag.  Chef Gazala Halabi utilizes the spices from her family back home, and the quality and seasoning combination stand out.

My excitement for the home style cooking here was rewarded with brightness and good flavors with a light touch.  My disappointments may be tied into my own shortcomings and understanding of this type of food.  Like all ethnic cuisine, you have to be in the mood for it.  If you want sushi don’t get Mexican.  If you want Thai, don’t look for Italian, etc.

I imagine that judgment of any Middle Eastern place should begin with its hummus.  While the hummus here is very organic and delicious, it does not have the same consistency I am accustomed too.  It is too whipped, and does not hold its form.  The tahini is fresh, and with the choices of chick peas or fava beans, a delight.  Rather treat yourself to the labanee, creamy goat cheese accented with zahatar, fragrant olive oil and a zing of lemon.  I only wish the homemade crepe-like pita were more solid.  My attempts at scooping up the labanee often ended in failure.

A close second is the babaganush.  The eggplant is not too smoky (I detest overly smoked anything, especially barbecue), and coupled with tahini, probably the best I have tasted in some time.  You will forgive me that I did not try any of the salads, but con attest to the bright quality of the tabouli.  If I could douse my body with this after a shower I would.  It gives anything green a good name.  I have not tried the kibbe, but have heard they are competent.  Kibbe is one of the reasons my grandfather married my grandmother.  Hers are unbelievable, and the knockoffs that exist always disappoint me.

Moving onto what separates Gazala Place from the rest are the homemade breads and pies.  Upon looking at them, located in the front window, they look like pastries from a street breakfast cart, an appearance of too much dough and staleness with an amateurish sprinkling.  These burekas are spiced with sesame and filled with goat cheese, tomatoes or chicken.   In reality each bite gets better and better, and coupled with yogurt are irresistible.  Save room to sample these.  The shell is flaky, the fillings moist, the balance correct.  Not as successful are the fresh baked pita shells, which are a tad greasy and uninteresting, the meat on top unremarakable.
Instead have the falafel, just lovely testaments to a chef Gazala’s hand, light and crispy and ideal.  I am upset that they are so far away from the Upper West Side.

I still have not tried any of the kebabs or the fish dishes, again holding onto my own prefabricated beliefs about what the essence of this type of food really is.  Who knows, maybe sometime in the near future, I will head over to a place like Angelica Kitchen, because I am in the mood and ready for a plate of fine vegetables.  Until then, break me in with a little hummus, babaganush, labanee, tabouli and a grape leaf or two and chalk that up to progress.

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Drinking Eating Experiences The Chef

Upper West Side Upswing

Upper West Side Upswing

In the evolution of restaurants on the Upper Westside, patience and challenging are two words that come to mind. For the last two decades, cheap ethnic food has been the standard and the only viable form of dining accepted by the residents. Attempts have been made, small coups if you will, to bring downtown uptown, but alas, you can take the diner out of the neighborhood, but not the neighborhood out of the diner. The Upper Westside is saddled with bad Chinese, Thai, Japanese, Spanish, Korean, Mexican etc. There are maybe two pasta places of note, and not one passable diner around. Neighborhood bars are tired and dated, not a gastropub among them. French bistros? All faux and disingenuine. The only saving grace is brunch, but the lines are downright vicious on weekends. And don’t forget some bakeries that do deliver, like Silver Moon and Magnolia, as well as Jacques Torres sweetening the pot.

The litmus test is simple. If you had your choice, ask yourself would you rather have any of these cuisines at UWS locations or elsewhere in NYC where the cooking and atmosphere is far superior. The collective UWS palate has become so muted and complacent that undue excitement is bestowed on any establishment that remotely pretends authenticity.

Certainly strides have been made, but upscale and better dining has mostly gone up in flames. Some savvy chefs have stuck around. Just look towards the Tom Valenti empire, Ouest, Cesca, and now West Branch. If you extend the zone to the Lincoln center area, there stands a formidable group spearheaded by Picholine, Telepan, and Bar Boulud. This trend has seeped into the West eighties with Kefi, Dovetail, 81 and Mermaid Inn. Even fast food has had a face lift with the Shake Shack and Pinch S’mac.

Wine bars have arrived, and although the quality is not great, they are a definite improvement to the dreary landscape of dining uptown.

Recently, Fatty Crab opened to much press and anticipation, in the space formerly inhabited by Zen Palate, juxtaposed to West Branch, making 77th Street a destination block, filling the voids left by the closings of the overrated Ruby Foo’s and the dreadful seafood aquarium Dock’s, both of which did not belong on the UWS for different reasons. The UWS is not Sushi Samba, and the acceptance of mediocre seafood via Dock’s is inherently blasphemous, the kind of thing that is wrong with UWS dining in the first place.

All indications are good, save for the spotty service. After all UWS diners have had much to complain about in the past, and cooperation on both parts will do well to erase the terrible service reputation from all the coffee shops and restaurant that remain which still need to close. At Fatty Crab, there is an ample bar and separate rooms, enough for all that baby carriage traffic to make its inevitable way through and not annoy other diners. The food is consistent and esoteric for these parts, but welcome and time appropriate.

I can’t say the same for West Branch, whose design feels a little disjointed. It would have been better for Mr. Valenti to have spent more time in the Spotted Pig or The Redhead in the East Village, because West Branch is a restaurant pretending to be a casual bar, and the design of the space does not allow for either experience to take place. The bar is out in the open, and seems to get in the way of the dining room, whose only redeemable accents are its “smoky” mirrors. But the menu is spot on and long overdue.

For charm and elegance look towards Barbao, upscale Vietnamese fare with a beautiful artistic frame around it. The front barroom could come out of an Asian Hotel lounge, the dining room adorned with flowing features allowing for connectivity and glimpses into the other parts of the restaurant, giving the illusion of different levels of a ship – an oasis on the UWS. The wine list is a tad overpriced (a bottle of Abadia Retuerta Rivola 2005 was listed for $60.00! – it retails for $10. to $13. depending on the shop). It is better to stay with the cocktails which are well conceived. The food is clean and correct with good choices such as sweetbread and frog’s legs.

Can these places persist amidst the rising costs of rents and the refusal of UWS residents to spend for quality dining? Will landlords continue to sit on empty spaces refusing to lower the rent to small business owners who are passionate about what they do? All the mom and pop joints have been run out of town. There is one advantage. There simply can’t be any more room for banks, pharmacies, and coffee shops. Necessity is the mother of invention, and the UWS’ need for this type of fix has been long overdue.