Degustation of Harlem Wing and Waffle
Sep 13, 2008 general food, trips
A guest blog from Erato on Main’s Jonathan “Jonny Style” Olson…
On Thursday I went to the Harlem institution, Wing and Waffle. After a lengthy subway ride and a seven block walk through Harlem I arrived at the vintage orange and white restaurant. Although not yet reviewed by the NYTimes, I could tell this was an up and coming restaurant.
I settled for the two course tasting menu with soda pairings. Apparently the counter staff was unfamiliar with the degustation format because both courses were served at once. Forgoing an amuse or appetizer, I started with my entrée: 2 piece wing/waffle and a beverage pairing of their own uptown orange soda. The chicken was cooked perfectly and had a nice, spicy kick. I could tell the cooks knew what they were doing. The soda, made with corn syrup, paled in comparison to Fitzes. The star of the plate was the waffles. Gooey on the inside, but soft in the middle, they were waffle perfection. I pondered asking the “chef” if I could do a stage, perhaps taking home the secret of waffle nirvana.
Dessert was a strawberry float, a bit boring. I had seen fresh strawberries at the union square market earlier but I don’t think Wing and Waffle utilizes fresh produce.
Overall I give it twelve thumbs up and recommend it to anyone in NYC.
Tags: harlem, Jonathan Olson, New York, waffles, wings
Ketchup Quest
Jan 5, 2008 cooking, groceries, recipe, trips
In the early days of the Food Network David Rosengarten had a show called Taste. In a way I guess he was almost the forerunner to Alton Brown, but where Brown will use food science to tweak a recipe or explain its outcome, Rosengarten went straight for the classic recipes never diverging from the path of the traditional dish.
With a tendency to come off a bit insane Brown doesn’t do it for me like Rosengarten did; though he too had his own flaws and would often come off sounding a bit pompous, and perhaps a bit stodgy in his adherence to the classic methods. Still, it wasn’t his attitude or cooking that drew me to the program, because the best portion of the show was the first fifteen minutes (or so), when he would delve into the detailed history of the dish he would be preparing that day.
Ketchup was the episode I remember most vividly because it’s not the kind of thing people typically think to make at home. And while I don’t recall everything that went into it, the one thing I do recall is that anchovies were high on the list; which at the time I found shocking when considering what Heinz tastes like.
Fascinated as I was I never bothered to try my hand at ketchup.
A few years later, at the Racquet Club Ladue, we would make a variation of ketchup in house that I would personally pile high on everything from eggs and hamburgers to the obvious: fries. I think, in fact, that it’s the very same Spicy Tomato Ketchup on Cardwell’s Bill’s Burgermeister Burger. If not, I think it’s damn close and probably still could be traced back to Fedora’s–the restaurant that brought Bill Cardwell to St. Louis in the first place.
Delicious as it is I’ve never committed to making it at home but, loving it as I did, I was always on the look out for a more adult variation of ketchup because I am not a fan of Heinz–to the point, in fact, that I make Ellie buy only Hunt’s because I find it thicker, less sweet, and more tomatoey.
Once my parents brought home a ketchup for me that had been made with Burgundy wine which was really fantastic. It was rather spicy with what I recall being a nice hit of cumin. It had made a stellar meatloaf or two while it lasted but once gone I was never able to find a source for it again.
Around that time I noticed Stonewall Kitchen makes a Country Ketchup. Sadly, through years of looking for it locally, I’ve never been able to find it in St. Louis and the cost of ordering one jar just seemed silly by the time shipping was factored in.
However my tail does not end in tears because earlier this year, while walking around Petoskey, Michigan wondering if Sufjan Stevens used to hang out in the coffee shop we were in, we headed back outside to find an amazing specialty food shop called Symons General Store. They carried an impressive selection considering how far North we were in the lower-peninsula. It seemed astonishingly out of place, and I’m not even sure St. Louis could keep a shop like it in business.
Upon entering, Ellie saw a Stonewall item and began looking for the ketchup even though I was telling her her she’d never find it–no matter how much Stonewall Kitchen stuff a store seems to carry, they never have the ketchup. This time, I was wrong.
It was as great as I’d always hoped it would be, and although the picture looks very smooth, it’s actually quite chunky, with a really strong tomato flavor, a bit less sugar, and definite hit of spice that you don’t generally find in America’s second favorite condiment–unless of course you make it for yourself.
It too makes a stellar meatloaf–up until a few weeks ago when I dropped it on the floor and watched the jar shatter below my tears–but you still can’t get it anywhere in St. Louis, and so I ordered some this afternoon.
If you’re a high roller, at $15 for an 11oz bottle, there’s also this Tomato Ketchup from June Taylor Jams. It gets rave reviews as do all their products which include things like marmalades, conserves, syrups, and a whole lot more.
And if you’re feeling especially ambitious, the recipe for Spiced Tomato Ketchup aka Spiced Tomato Relish after the jump…
Tags: Alton-Brown, David-Rosengarten, ketchup, Taste
Lunch at Sycamore – Columbia, MO
Nov 21, 2007 beer, restaurants, reviews, trips
There are a few things I didn’t get to over the past few months so travel back in time with me as I cover a little lost ground Nakamura style.
From Mastodon to moe., and all points in between, over the years I’ve been to far more than a handful of concerts at The Blue Note in Columbia, MO. For years, each time I arrived with little time on my hands, I’d peer into the windows of Trattoria Strada Nova and quietly say to myself “someday” before scurrying across the street to Ninth Street Deli or Bangkok Gardens short of the necessary finances and time to do so.
Unfortunately the only someday that came was that someday most good things come to an end. With business apparently faltering, the Trattoria was non più. I’d missed my chance.
But then through the grapevine known as Chowhound I heard that the “good chef,” Mike Odette, had rounded the corner opening up a spacious new restaurant called Sycamore at the corner of Broadway and Eighth. Specializing in local seasonal food, Sycamore, like 222 Artisan Bakery, is the kind of place you step into and wonder how it ended up where it is in the first place. With a section of about 6 tables just inside the front windows, my quick gazes while passing by never yielded a real grasp for the restaurants size. Once inside, however, it’s an absolutely enormous space, and frankly, really cool.
Three to four times as long as it is wide, the restaurant seems even larger do to the high ceilings. Along with the warm color scheme, the floors, a combination of wood and vintage looking tile, reminded me of an old drug store soda fountain and gave the restaurant a familiar welcoming feel. A well stocked bar runs briefly down the right side before the room narrows and you find yourself looking at the seemingly mandatory open kitchen in back.
Making the kitchen especially unique, it is also elevated up a short flight of stairs so that everyone in the restaurant can easily see it. On the side of the line facing the restaurant a short bookshelf is lined with cookbooks obviously tattered by cooks and chefs scouring for inspiration — which did not go overlooked. For me a kitchen with cookbooks is one where the staff is always interested in learning; understanding that no matter how great a cook you are, there is always room for growth, and there is always someone better. Sycamore it would seem, gets it.
Seated in the narrow section of the restaurant near the kitchen, we looked over the menu making our final selections as the scent of a kitchen deep into their Friday morning prep work wafted into the dining room from the elevated kitchen. The unmistakable smell of bacon roasting in the oven, the perfume of grilling onions as they caramelized slowly making them something better than before, and the sound of cold butter hitting a hot pan; its scent signaling its change from yellow to brown confirmed even before a bite was taken, that good food was being cooked here.
The lunch menu at Sycamore is made up of salads, soups, sandwiches, and a handful of lighter lunch entrees. Also listed is an option of 1/2 a sandwich & any side item for only $6.25. Although I don’t recall what Ellie had, she wisely made this choice. I however was starved, and having read about their use of Patchwork Farms pork on their website, combined with the heavenly sent of bacon in the air, I knew I had to have a full Peppered Patchwork pork loin and bacon served on focaccia with grilled onions, fontina, sundried tomato mayo and housemade barbeque sauce with a side of fries as soon as I saw it.
Initially I was a little worried that so many flavors might make the sandwich overwhelming. The flavors melded together nicely, however, with the smoke of the bacon and the strong pork flavor of the loin being complimented nicely by the bite of the fontina and the zip of the light-handed addition of barbecue sauce.
At $7.50, it was also incredibly reasonable because it was an absolute monster. A testament to its deliciousness, it was one of those items where you know you should stop eating, but it tastes so good that unless someone physically removes it from your sight, it begs you to keep powering on even though you know you shouldn’t.
The fries were a fit compliment to the sandwich as well. Roof of the mouth searing hot, they were the biggest I’ve ever had by a wide margin.And everything paired nicely with my beer. I’m normally more of a wine man with my upscale dining, but a glance at their beer list quickly changed my mind. Not only do they actually have one, but the beer list at Sycamore is possibly the best I’ve ever seen in a restaurant of this type. It was filled with thoughtful and unusual brews representing some of the finest beers in the world. Listed at an incredibly reasonable $6, I went with the Brasserie des Rocs Triple Impériale Ale. At around 10% ABV you’d expect this Belgian Strong Dark Ale to give an immediate hit of alcohol as you take the first sip, but instead, it’s only somewhat apparent do to the beer’s sweetness. Not cloying in any way, it comes from the punch of funky dried fruit flavors which lingered through the finish. Well played, it was a shockingly good pairing with the sandwich.
We can’t wait to go back for a dinner at Sycamore, and will certainly be making sure to arrive with plenty of pre-concert time from now on.
flickr pictobrowser after the jump
Tags: Columbia, Mike-Odette, MO, Sycamore
I Love You Budino
Oct 24, 2007 general food, recipe, restaurants, trips
As previously mentioned Ellie and I honeymooned in Napa Valley. We made the decision to go there and also San Francisco mostly for the following reasons:
First was the organic Robert Sinskey Vineyards. Situated along the lesser-known Silverado Trail in Napa Valley, Robert Sinskey Vineyards is one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever been. Their wines are some of the best I’ve had, and their pinot noir specifically is an all time favorite of mine.
A few years later we had the pleasure of dining with Robert Sinskey and Maria Helm Sinskey at a wine dinner at Harvest, and while that’s not the point of this post, I will say that it was refreshing to find out first hand that their philosophy is to make the wines they like: wines best enjoyed with food rather than alone. It was obvious when we’d visited their vineyard.
Second was of course the bigger reason: food.
If you’ve never had the opportunity to dine in Napa Valley, the thing I remember most from our experiences, was how relaxed everything seemed to be. While you certainly have the French Laundry and all their pomp and circumstance, the places we went were incredibly relaxed considering the level of quality. Unlike any city we’ve ever dined in, there we’d be, sitting at the bar in a beautiful restaurant in which someone had lovingly spent a great deal of time an energy on every minute detail, and in would waltz some guy in shorts or a t-shirt. The most striking thing: nobody seemed to really care. Everyone was just there to eat the finest food they could find.
And it was so easy to find.
At Bouchon we had a warm rabbit rillette topped with a fig compote. It was preserved in a flip top mason jar. Heated intact it was only opened once arriving at our table allowing us the first pleasures of its perfume. If unfamiliar, rillette is a method of cooking submerged in fat for preservation similar to confit. Each bite was spread on crisp crostini before dazzling your palette as the sweetness of the fig cut through the soft fattiness of the rabbit.
Another item we recall from Bouchon was a lemon tart. Such a simple dessert, it was made spectacular by the use of meyer lemons and the portion size — literally one fourth of a full tart.
But the real reason we went for the food was that at the time we were addicted to the pre-lame Michael Chiarello PBS program Season By Season. We wanted desperately to eat at Tra Vigne, and what better excuse to go than a honeymoon?
While you’d be hard pressed to find a location in Napa Valley that isn’t beautiful, Tra Vigne delivered in full as you were transported to Italy the second you walked through their outer gates. It was a massive restaurant filled with the sounds of busy servers and happy diners echoing throughout.
Ellie had a roasted pear and gorgonzola risotto that is probably the best we’ve ever had. Cooked perfectly, it was neither to stodgy or to wet the way it so often is in restaurants. I recall I had a rabbit pappardelle that I wish I could remember more vividly, but the point of this post is not that the pasta sealed our love for Tra Vigne. What sealed it, was the Warm Pecorino Budino we’d had as one of our appetizers.
Budino is Italian for pudding, and cheese pudding was certainly nothing we’d ever had before. It was like a taste of heaven as the acidity of the grape tomatoes they served it with cut through the creaminess of the peppery sheep’s milk pecorino pudding. We loved it so much we were lured back two days later for lunch to have it again, and it was just as good.
After returning to our regular lives in St. Louis we couldn’t stop thinking about budino. It was one of those perfect food memories I’ve spoken of previously. Each time we thought of it, craving for more, we could almost taste it.
So, I called the restaurant to see if I could find out, at the very least, what kind of cheese they used. To my surprise, they graciously sent me the entire recipe in its entirety along with some back story on how it came to be. It seemed they loved it just as much as we did. I made it that very weekend, and while the missing ambiance of the restaurant kept it from being everything we’d hoped for, it was still touching to be able to relive the experience in some small way.
In the years since, with a move and a lot of life lived, I sadly lost the recipe, but I was delighted to find it last week while cleaning my office along with my note regarding how I obtained it in the first place.
It is amazingly simple to make, and is sure to be a crowd pleaser at any holiday gathering you might attend. But please don’t serve Asparagus until the Spring.
Warm Pecorino “Budino” with Grilled Asparagus
serves 6-8
1 c. milk
1 c. cream
1 c. fresh, white bread crumbs (no crust) from baguette or Italian bread
1 c. grated Fulvi Pecorino cheese + a little to sprinkle on the unmolded budino
3 egg yolks
pinch of pepper
18 spears ofsmall-medium asparagus tough ends trimmed and stalks peeled
1 lemon
2 T chopped Gaeta olives
Heat milk, cream and Pecorino until it just simmers. Remove and strain through a chinois. Discard the cheese solids and save the strained cream. Add the fresh bread crumbs to the warm cream. Set aside to allow the crumbs to soften in the cream for 30 minutes.
Separate the egg whites from the yolks. Discard the whites. Pour the cream mixture and a pinch of salt and pepper in the yolks and whisk until thoroughly incorporated.
Pour four ounces of the budino custard into well buttered ramekins and bake in a water bath for 1-1 1/2 hours at a temperature of 300 degrees or until a toothpick comes out of the center clean.
Remove from oven and let rest for 10 minutes. The resting is not imperative but is good for unmolding the budino.
Blanch the asparagus briefly in boiling water. Remove and place asparagus in a bowl. Toss with a little olive oil and grey salt. Grill over hot coals for 2 minutes just to singe the asparagus on one side.
Place three spears onto a Warm plate. Run a toothpick or thin knife around the outside of the custard to loosen from the sides of the ramekin. Unmold it onto a plate and finish with a great extra virgin olive oil chopped Gaeta olives and a squeeze of lemon juice.
Note: I e-mailed Tra Vigne Restaurant in St. Helena, CA wondering if they could point me in a direction on even the type of cheese for this pudding. Ellie and I had eaten it on our honeymoon, and I wanted to make it for her again. I had thought to get a menu before leaving so I would not forget, but I lost it somewhere between CA and MO. Not only did they fax me a complete recipe portioned out for home use, but I got this info regarding the recipe:
“Chef Carmen Quagliata created the dish. It is the Pecorino pudding. Carmen now owns a restauant in Boston named The Vault. If you have a fax, I can fax you the recipe. It is very tasty!!!”
Carmen Quagliata was more or less a prodigy of Michael Chiarello. He was sous chef under Chiarello for many years before becoming Executive Chef of Tra Vigne.
Tags: french laundry, maria helm sinskey, Michael Chiarello, napa valley, robert sinskey vineyards, silverado trail
Food Blogs and Photos
Sep 10, 2007 general food, restaurants, trips
One thing I can’t quite grasp in the world of food blogging is all these people taking pictures of food in restaurants. For the most part, I can’t bring myself to do it. Not only do I feel silly, but it makes me feel like it has the potential to interfere with another diners enjoyment, and I think it’s a bit strange on a philosophical level. It’s somewhat like cheating on a test for lack of a more thought out comparison.
Although I’m only 30, I’ve eaten at a lot of great restaurants all over the US. Anywhere I happen to go, even if it’s on business, food is utmost on my agenda whether it be a mecca of dining like New York or someplace that requires a little more digging like Traverse City, MI.
These are both actual trips I took in the last twelve months, and because I make food such an important part of my life, on both of them my wife and I ate things over the course of the week long vacations I can vividly describe.
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| Would I have remembered this Michigan Cherry Crumb cake at Stone House Bread any less if I didn’t have the picture? |
I know I can’t tell you all the things we ate, but in a way, does that not somehow make the things I do remember more special? Shouldn’t it be that the best things you’ve ever eaten are the ones you remember most vividly without pictures?
Whether it’s a 9 course meal at WD-50, or a Sour Cherry Crumb Pie at the Grand Traverse Pie Company, to me, the foods you most remember are the true best things you’ve ever eaten because they touched you in some way emotionally.
So, is a food blog without pictures useless? Where do you stand on taking pictures in restaurants, and if you do so, how do you keep from feeling like an idiot?
-Bill
Tags: blogging, cherry crumb cake, food blogging, grand traverse pie company, traverse city, wd 50
From the mountains of Panama and Ethiopia, to the urban-jungles of Portland and Chicago, journalist Michaele Weissman takes us behind the scenes for a look at the world of third-wave specialty coffee. How did we get to Starbucks, and where we go from here?