Matters of Taste

Rosita and Me --- Cheese-Making in Costa Rica

Most people who visit Costa Rica head for the water… the surfing, beachcombing, kayaking and deep-sea fishing are first-rate. But this week I headed for the hills.

My husband and I come to Costa Rica almost every year to spend time with relatives in their home on the beach between Quepos and the Manuel Antonio National Park. Typically we do nothing, or next to nothing. A little kayaking, walks on the beach, a lot of reading, and naps galore.

But on Thursday we found ourselves in the Chirripo Valley (pictured here), the start of the Chirripo National Park, a remote, end-of-the-road kind of place with vertical walls of dense vegetation, a  boulder-strewn, rushing river, and a rolling valley floor dotted with hardscrabble farms. It was there I met and fell in love with Rosita.

We were on a tour of  Quesos Canaan (Canaan Cheese Co.), arranged by Carlos Rojas and Randy Langendorfer, proprietors of Monte Azul, the eco-lodge where we spent the night. (More about this magical getaway in my next post.)

Randy and my sister-in-law translated as owner/cheesemaker Wilberth Mata showed us around the sustainable farm (he uses cow manure to make the methane gas that fuels the operation), and led us, step by precise step, through the cheese-making process.

And, since that process starts with milk, duh, we were soon introduced to Rosita, an 18-year-old cow  with a tangle of protruding ribs but a gentle personality and “protected” status because of her long years of service.

I wish I had captured the facial expressions of our city-slicker group as Wilberth demonstrated the fine art of milking, then told us each to take a turn. Later, when he squirted Rosita’s milk directly into a mug for us to drink, the “what the…what the..?" faces returned. But, the warm, rich and super-frothy milk was delicious and cried out for a shot of espresso.

Back in the tiny, spotless cheese-making room, we inoculated milk with lacto-bacillus and rennet, listened to Wilberth’s story of how he learned to make cheese 10 years ago from a visiting Swiss gent, who subsequently invited him to spend a few weeks  in Switzerland (it was his first plane ride and only time ever out of Costa Rica); and eventually “cut the cheese, “ using a special rake-like tool to cut through the curds which had separated from the whey.  (Read more about the family’s fascinating story in a Tico Times article.)

We added salt, stirred and stirred, heated the mixture to exactly 38 degrees C., stirred some more, then watched the slim but remarkably strong Wilberth lift the 125-pound kettle with the ease he’d hoist a frisky toddler, and pour off the opaque whey.  (The handsome farmer, somewhere in his early 40s, is an accomplished runner, with multiple shelves of trophies for his performance in the annual International Chirripo Marathon, a gnarly mountain foot race that covers 8,000 vertical feet before reaching the top of Mt. Chirripo, Costa Rica’s highest peak. Wilburth is a perennial winner, running it, round-trip, in just over three hours.)

Wilberth Mata operates Quesos Canaan with his wife and partner Kattia Hernandez and additional help from their three kids. The Tipo Suizo cheese, which is dense and dotted with tiny “holes,” has a mild but distinctive buttery, nutty flavor (as opposed to most Costa Rican cheeses which, in my opinion, have no flavor at all). It’s sold in some restaurants and stores in Manuel Antonio and San Jose, but most of it doesn’t leave the insulated Chirripo Valley. The Mata Hernandez clan makes just nine pounds of cheese a day, every day of the year. Do the math.

We were lucky enough to be the creators of the nine pounds (four hefty wheels) created on Friday, and now perched on a shelf in the Quesos Canaan aging room. Some day, after the minimum three-month aging period, a lucky cheese-lover will cut into and enjoy the cheese made, with love, by Rosita and me.

A Website for Quesos Canaan is under construction. You can email the Mata Hernandez family at: quesoscanaan@hotmail.com. Visitors are welcome; the formal tour-and-cheese-making gig lasts three to four hours and costs about $40 a person.

Praise for Panna Cotta

Once upon a time, panna cotta was a simple custard dessert, a rather humdrum affair, an unexciting option, in my opinion, to be passed over in favor of, say, a gushing lava cake. Indeed, the trusty food dictionary,"Food Lover's Companion," describes the classic as "...a light, silky egg custard, which is often flavored with caramel.” End of story.

But having recently discovered the Meyer Lemon Buttermilk Panna Cotta at Delfina in San Francisco, I’m thinking a re-write might be in order. Today, panna cotta is a cook's canvas for showing off style, talent and local, seasonal ingredients.

At Delfina, pastry chef Abby Olitzky subs buttermilk for the regular milk involved (panna cotta typically consists of just milk, cream, sugar and gelatin) to give her final product a lighter, brighter taste. She further punches up the flavor with Meyer lemon juice. The quivery creation is then topped with segments of local Ora Blanca and Star Ruby grapefruits that are glazed with a sauce of their juices and simple syrup. The texture is sublime; the flavor, a captivating mix of sweetness and tang.

Olitzky is not alone in exploring the possibilities of the panna cotta repertoire. At Babbo in New York City, Mario Batali does a rich, barely sweetened, saffron-tinted custard topped with juicy blackberries and a bracing lemon sorbetto. Farther uptown, Daniel Boulud delights diners at DB Bistro with an exotic lemon grass panna cotta served with vanilla-strawberry sorbet.

But panna cotta isn't limited to the dessert menu these days. Savory versions are showing up as hors d'oeuvre and entree.  Jeff Jackson, executive chef at The Lodge at Torrey Pines here in La Jolla, does a sumptuous panna cotta flecked with caviar and smoked salmon; and French-born chef Jean Marie Josselin of Josselin’s Tapas Bar & Grill in Kauai wows guests with his edamame (soybean) panna cotta with a hint of fiery wasabi. I also loved the work of Chef Gordon Mayberry, who’s made waves at the Peninsula Hotel, New York city and Loews, Miami Beach: a sublime goat cheese panna cotta with creme fraiche and fresh basil, served warm with toasts.

This is the gastronomic version of the little black dress. Play it straight with a strand of pearls, or go Gaga with edible bling --- you can’t go wrong with this versatile Italian favorite.

 

 

 

Best of 2011 – Bites, Bottles, Books, Burgers, Boites & More

The year is just 10 days old and I’ve already discovered a wine I can’t live without, and a butternut squash bread pudding, served as an entrée, that is sure to be one of my go-to dinners of 2012.

More about them below.

But before we get any further into the New Year, it’s time to share the best of 2011, a remarkable food year that included everything from the Poquito Picante cocktail (at NYC’s Yerba Buena) and the Pepe Bianco (white clam pizza with bacon and onions at Boston’s Coppa) to shrimp ‘n grits in Charleston and a whopping cut of meat called Stinco de Vitello, enjoyed at a mountain hut high in the Dolomites.

Starting next week, I’ll highlight the most delicious meals I lucked into while traveling in 2011, as well as my favorite restaurants, most memorable hotel experiences, dynamite destinations, captivating cocktails and best new cookbooks of the year. Please come back and  check it out.

OK. Back to the bread pudding. Or, to be more precise, the Pumpkin Panade. That’s what Miami chef Michael Schwartz called it when he shared the recipe with the Wall Street Journal a couple of weeks ago. “Panade is just a fancy name for stuffing,” Schwartz was quoted as saying in the paper’s Slow Food Fast column. It’s a rustic French dish that involves stale bread, stewed onion, broth and shredded cheese.

I made it last night and served it as entrée alongside a large green salad dotted with goat cheese and toasted hazelnuts. But the beauty of this thing is that you can serve it as accompaniment to meat (it’d be great with braised pork loin, grilled chicken breasts or even the Thanksgiving turkey) or jazz it up with slivers of prosciutto or chunks of Applegate Fire-Roasted Red Pepper Chicken & Turkey Sausage (a staple in my kitchen; available at Whole Foods) and let it shine as entrée. (The photo is by Justin Walker for The Wall Street Journal.)

It's easy.  Saute sliced onion, toss in crushed garlic and cubed pumpkin or butternut squash and cook for about 15 minutes. Add the fragrant mix to chunks of stale bread, fresh herbs and grated Fontina cheese. Moisten it all with hot chicken broth and a bit of heavy cream, then pack it into a gratin dish, top with grated Pecorino or Parmesan and bake ‘til bubbly.

Here’s the recipe from The Wall Street Journal.

Raves for Bottega Ristorante

How do I love Bottega Ristorante? Well, I need both hands to count the ways.

For starters, this three-year-old Michael Chiarello restaurant, in the heart of the Napa Valley hamlet of Yountville, is a totally captivating scene. The rooms are stylish, with lots of space, high ceilings, flattering lighting and a bustling open kitchen. From the instant you step inside the door, there’s an energy and joy that’s palpable. The staff is lively, attractive and adroit; Chiarello himself seems to be everywhere, meeting and greeting his guests; and the sophisticated, well-dressed crowd knows how to have a great time.

Then there’s Bottega’s food – it’s fabulous. There’s simply no other word to describe the single potato dough raviolo I enjoyed recently. The delicate pasta package was filled with spinach and ricotta cheese and topped with an organic, soft-cooked egg that mingled its vivid yolk with a brown butter sauce flecked with fresh sage. The perfect package was showered with fresh black truffles.

Fabulous would also describe the unique caramelle pasta that was filled with tiny dice of caramelized butternut squash and Bosc pears, and finished with brown butter, pecorino cheese and deep-fried sage leaves. The final flurry of poppy seeds and crushed Amaretti was fascinating. (The caramelle pasta shape was a new one to me; it’s a small, homemade tube pasta that gets twisted on each end and looks like a piece of salt water taffy.)

Our shared appetizers were also something to rave about: a perfect bite-size specimen of sushi-quality   tuna teamed with one paper-thin slice of crisped garlic and one fragrant basil leaf; and heavenly burrata with walnut pesto bruschetta, peppercress and a truffle vinaigrette infused with orange essence.

Brussels sprouts are the darling of wine country menus this season. We ate them at Bouchon in Yountville (with smoky bacon lardons); at Grace’s Table in Napa, where they were creamed with bacon and potatoes; and at Cindy’s Backstreet Kitchen in St. Helena where a simple salt-pepper-butter version paired well with seared chicken breast.

But the shaved, caramelized sprouts at Bottega ended up stealing the show in a stylish salad (pictured here) that also included toasted Marcona almonds, wisps of prosciutto, citrus segments and an aged balsamic vinaigrette.

Bottega’s wine list is heavy on local, small-production wines which you’ll rarely see anyplace outside of the wine country. (There’s also an admirable roster of Italian wines but I can’t pass up a great wine made locally for a great wine that’s been schlepped 6,000 or more miles.)

And Bottega’s service is nothing short of superlative. Our server was a charming, professional young guy with joie de vivre to spare and no shortage of opinions. Another server (who joked that he was the oldest guy in the place) was equally endearing, appearing out of nowhere when my sister’s Black Pepper Bucatini alla Carbonara arrived at the table. He swooped in and picked up her knife and fork, eagerly tossing the hot noodles, broccolini and crisp guaciale with the barely cooked egg on top. “You don’t want the egg to cool before it’s mixed with the pasta,” was his basic message, delivered with a joy that was contagious.

Though we loved everything about our dining experience, the icing on the cake was just that --- icing on the cake. Or, more accurately, creme anglaise on the cake. Chef Chiarello graciously surprised us with the house signature dessert -- a luscious chocolate souffle cake, with molten chocolate center, hazelnut creme anglaise and candied hazelnut brittle -- to celebrate my mother’s 89th birthday. (The dessert requires 20 minutes to cook...plan ahead.)

Located in the atmospheric Marketplace 1870, a development of eateries and shops in a 140-year-old winery estate, Bottega Ristorante offers great options for an after-dinner walk. Stroll the V Estates or browse the windows in Yountville before heading home to bed.

Giving Thanks…..for Yummy New Things to Eat and Drink

The last champagne glass has been washed. The last return flight to the East Coast has landed. And the turkey soup is bubbling away on the stove. It’s time to give thanks for all the delicious things that friends and relatives brought to our Turkey Day feast --- new foods, wines and ideas that I’ll incorporate into the feasts of the future.

A Pumpkin By Any Other Name  

Forget the traditional apple and mincemeat pies. I am now totally hooked on Pumpkin Whoopie Pies.  These luscious treats incorporate all the flavors and aromas of Thanksgiving --- canned pumpkin, cloves, nutmeg, brown sugar and cinnamon. But, at the same time, they offer a touch of whimsy (and they’re great for breakfast the next day too).  

Our holiday Whoopie Pies came from a recipe on the captivating BrownEyedBaker Website. It calls for the soft, cake-like sandwich cookies to be filled with a fluffy mixture of butter, cream cheese, confectioner’s sugar and real maple syrup. (There are many versions of Whoopie Pies on-line, including the lovely creation, pictured here, from Bon Appetit magazine which uses marshmallow crème and maple extract in the filling.)

The pumpkin poufs were a huge hit at our turkey day dinner, even though they were going head-to-head with a “Cookies and Cream” cheesecake from Brooklyn Cheesecake and Dessert Company (one of our guests bought it on RueLaLa)  and my mother’s chocolate ice box cake (a "log" of Nabisco's Famous Chocolate Wafers and whipped cream) that’s been part of our family’s holiday for more than 60 years.

The 24 sated souls at our table also made room for the fabulous homemade toffee from Cups & Cakes, a boutique sweet shop in Rumson. NJ. Both the Almond and Chocolate-Pecan versions are amazing, with multiple layers of first-rate milk and dark chocolate and a buttery toffee with the perfect crunch (not too soft or too hard). The shop also does show-stopping “celebration” cakes and lovely gift baskets.

Calling All Coffee Connoisseurs  

I’m not about to trade La Jolla for Portland, Oregon any time soon, but  I sure would love for one of that city’s beloved coffee purveyors to open a shop close to me! Stumptown Coffee is the darling of coffee connoisseurs these days, with a handful of shops in Portland, two in Seattle and one in New York City (in the Ace Hotel).

Our Thanksgiving weekend breakfasts were happy times, indeed, thanks to the two Stumptown specials brought by a Seattle friend.  The Hair Bender, said to be the best blend for espresso, was a heady brew, full-bodied, yet with elegant layers of flavor. The cute little business card tucked into the bag told the story about this “complex sweet and savory blend” and promised flavors of milk chocolate, caramel, jasmine, Meyer lemon, apricot and pineapple. I got the milk chocolate and caramel flavors loud and clear, and loved them.  The other, Guatemala Finca el Injerto (Bourbon), was also  intriguing with its notes of roasted nuts and earthy chocolate.  I’m not a big fan of regular brewed coffee, but that’s how I prepared this coffee and it was fantastic with a double dose of half-and-half.  

The other beverages of note at our festivities were gifts of our Walla Walla WA friends -- four distinctive, delicious wines from the wineries of that up-and-coming area. My favorite, the Garrison Creek 2005 Syrah, was lip-smacking good. This wine had the heft to stand up to a rich turkey dinner with all the trimmings, but also an elegance that made us sit back and say "wow." The requisite Syrah black pepper notes were there, but also an abundance of lovely fruit.  We also drank a lush Leonetti Cabernet  Sauvignon. From Walla Walla's first winery, this is a sophisticated wine, with ripe fruits, spice and dried herbs dominating the flavor profile, and an impressively smooth mouth feel.

Piqueing the Palate 

Choosing the right hors d’oeuvre for Thanksgiving Day is a challenge. It has to be something unusual for this once-a-year extravaganza, it has to be satisfying; but at the same time it has to be light enough to leave us hungry for the main event. One of our guests brought a platter of crisp endive leaves stuffed with goat cheese, green onion, walnuts and mandarin orange bits. It was colorful, elegant, and delicious. You can find the recipe, which was adapted from an original “Cooking Light” recipe, at NaturalNoshing.com.

 

 

 

 

Lemon Meringue Pie Re-visited....at The Ivy Inn

Some desserts have really good PR machines. The chocolate lava cake, also known as molten chocolate cake, flourless chocolate cake and chocolate fondant cake, has been the hands-down darling of the past couple of decades. Diners can’t get enough of the stuff, even when it’s a mediocre rendition (sometimes a prepared, frozen product!) that’s coming out of the kitchen.

Then there’s lemon meringue pie. Not an ounce of drama, no cachet, no sensationalist articles in newspaper and magazine food pages. But the simple, glossy British-American classic has been pleasing its fans since the 19^th century.

Of course, my personal favorite is the one my mother made every year for my birthday (who said it had to be a birthday “cake?”) Hers was the condensed milk variety, a pale, smooth and creamy filling topped with fluffy egg white peaks bronzed in the oven.

But recently I found another version that I love, sorry Mother, just as much.  OK, OK. Almost as much.

That's the Lemon Meringue Ice Box Cake at the The Ivy Inn in Charlottesville, VA, where I dined a week ago with my husband and his college friends.

The elegant creation starts with a wafer-thin, buttery graham cracker crust and moves onward and upward with tangy, zest-infused lemon curd and caramel cream layers. On top, an ethereal cap of toasted meringue, along with barely-there pieces of candied lemon zest and coarse organic sugar. On the side, a delicate lemon lace cookie. And it's all framed by a fresh, fragrant lemon-berry coulis.

The combination of tastes and textures is awesome…which is why my husband and I went back to the Inn for a second dinner two nights later.  Professional food critics aren’t supposed to do that….with only three nights in Charlottesville, I should have dined in three different restaurants.

But the lemon meringue wonder, by pastry chef Jon Thornburg, lured me back to the Inn just as effectively as mythology’s Sirens seduced sailors to shipwreck on the rocky coast of their island.

And the fact that I had also flipped over chef-owner Angelo Vangilopoulos’ Puree of Butternut Squash
Soup on the first night made the repeat visit an easy call. (Yes, I ate the soup, swirled with scallion cream and dotted with smoked bacon bits and glazed, spiced pecans, on the second visit, too!)

Both dishes were in perfect sync with the Inn’s gracious, homey Virginia-horse-country vibe ---
sophisticated but understated. The original property – a multi-building estate – was built shortly after a fire destroyed the original building in 1815. Since then it has changed hands several times, including years of stewardship by the University of Virginia, whose “grounds” are a mile away. (The property was once called “Faulkner House” after William Faulkner, who was a distinguished University “Writer in Residence.”)

Since 1973 the quaint cottage surrounded by overgrown gardens, has been The Ivy Inn restaurant. (This photo is from the blog HarvestThymeHerbFarm.) In 1995 it was purchased by Vangelopoulos, who graduated from the Culinary Institute of American (CIA) in Hyde Park, NY, and trained at  Washington, D.C.’s Galileo restaurant and Cilantro’s in Del Mar, CA.Today he runs the restaurant with his wife, Farrell.

The rest of the menu, which changes frequently and features products from the central Virginia area, is as enticing as the dishes that hooked me. Consider Polyface Farms Slow Cooked Chicken with cloud-like gnocchi, local Andouille sausage and wild mushrooms;  Pumpkin-Seed Crusted Red Drum Fillet with couscous, avocado, lime and Carolina shrimp; Homemade Pumpkin Ravioli with crispy leeks, pumpkinseeds and fresh sage; Sticky English Toffee Pudding…then make a detour to this captivating academic town and check out The Ivy Inn.

(2244 Old Ivy Road, Charlottesville, VA; 434-977-1222. Appetizers $6-$12; entrees, $22-$36. Lemon Meringue Ice Box Cake, $8.)

 

The Beast.....and the Beauty

A quick postscript on that nasty stretch of the RSVP Day One ride from Seattle into Bellingham:

The main culprit was the roadway called Chuckanut Drive, also known as Highway 11. Before the hills started, Chuckanut Drive was flat with a skimpy bike lane lined on one side with “rumble strips” (the indentations that keep sleepy drivers on the road) and a ditch on the other. For miles I struggled to keep my wheels in the resultant sliver of space. I was exhausted by the challenge, and imagined another rhyming name for the highway that would be far more appropriate.

I fervently hoped I’d never see Chuckanut anything, ever again.

Imagine my shock this week when I was shopping in the Mountain Market in the tiny town of Ridgway, Colorado and discovered Chuckanut Bay Foods Cheesecakes. The miniature (three or four bite) cakes are from-scratch productions, made with local Northwest berries and other fruits, by a family-owned and locally-operated boutique bakery not too far from, you guessed it, Chuckanut Bay and Chuckanut Drive.

I bought the tiny Very Berry Cheesecake and was impressed by the pronounced berry flavor and the rich creaminess of the cake. Other flavors include Key Lime, Hazelnut Mocha, Honey Lavender and Cajeta Swirl, all of which I would love to try. (The Website’s “retailer” feature shows where to buy them.)

But I don’t plan to visit the bakery on a bicycle any time soon.

And a quick postscript on this quick postscript:

Many members of the RSVP posse consider Chuckanut Drive the highlight of the two-day bike tour. That's because AFTER the nasty stretch detailed above the road goes on to hug the coastline offering out-of-this-world views of the island-studded bay. Apparently, the flat, booby-trapped stretch that was almost my undoing was a last-minute route detour.  Let's hope it's by-passed on next year's ride.

Magical Wolfgangsee

Think Austria…Think sausages, pork chops, venison and goulash loaded with meaty chunks. 

  But, all of a sudden, the spotlight is on vegetables. During our two weeks in Vienna and the last couple nights in the Salzburg countryside, we’ve been amazed at the creative vegetable-based dishes and the extraordinary flavor of the local produce.  Some menus have offered a separate section of vegetable entrees, others simply added them to the regular line-up of Wienerschnitzel, Tafelspitz and Backhuhn.

We hit the jackpot at Gasthof & Hotel Fürberg on the Wolfgangsee (Lake Wolfgang), south of Salzburg. The hotel, straight out of a fairytale, is tucked away in thick woods, smack on the banks of the lake and accessible only by a single lane, twisty road that ends at the inn.

After a 3-hour drive from Vienna, we stretched our legs on a two-hour Wanderung (hike/walk) along the edge of the lake to the nearby town of St. Gilgen. At dinnertime, we settled ourselves at a table on the outdoor terrace and watched as dusk gave way to a string of twinkly lights along the lake’s jagged coast.

Just when I figured life couldn’t get any better, along came the first course, a glossy Thai-inspired soup of coconut milk and pureed vegetables, ingeniously seasoned, and served in a pretty glass tumbler. Austrians are not known for their experimentation in the kitchen --- soup usually means Speckknödelsuppe (clear soup with big dumplings), Fritattensuppe (clear broth with pancake strips) or Griesnockerlsuppe (clear broth with little dumplings…you get the picture --- so we were particularly thrilled with our good luck.

Entrees were equally exciting.  Spinatknödeln (spinach dumplings) were light and airy, with more  spinach and less bread than the traditional rendition, and the bright green flavor of  fresh spinach. The two Knödeln sat in a shiny pool of melted parmesan cheese, surrounded by roasted cherry tomatoes that exploded upon first bite.

Gemüselaibchen, a mouthful that translates into vegetable patties, were fashioned from topfen (a cheesy wonder known as quark in the U.S.), minced veggies from local gardens, and fresh herbs. The discs were sauteed in plenty of butter and set afloat in a light cream sauce loaded with fresh local mushrooms. Deep-fried arugula leaves crowned the simple but stunning dish.

The next morning we worked off the calories with a hike along the wooded path that leads to the town of St. Wolfgang (where a ferry takes hikers back to Fürberg and other villages). The periodic peeks out to the lake were jaw-dropping, the path was steep but wide and fairly smooth, and the history lesson we got at Falkenstein, an ancient Celtic site midway on the path, was fascinating.

It seems this path was a popular pilgrimage route centuries ago and is today full of myth and legend. At the imposing church (formerly a monastery) that’s built into the side of the stony hillside, hikers can go inside and recite a popular prayer to St. Wolfgang and hear him respond (it’s all about the echo effect). At another tiny chapel, we discovered a spring gushing from a rock. Legend has it that blind voyagers could see after splashing the water in their eyes. Never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, I gave it a try. I’m still waiting for the sign from St. Wolfgang that I can throw my Costco multi-pack of cheaters away.

Check out Hotel Fürberg on line. It’s one of the most captivating places we’re visited. And check back here in a week or so for the recipes for the spinach dumplings and veggie patties.

Caffe Affogato: The Hot New Way to Cool Off

As a longtime fan of this delicious coffee-and-ice-cream concoction, I was happy to see the recent Wall Street Journal blurb encouraging us to “embrace the affogato – the Italian version of a grownup soda-fountain drink.”

“The caffeinated wonder combines hot espresso with cold gelato to create a melty, spoonable (or gulpable) treat.”

The potion has been popping up on restaurant menus in New York where stratospheric temperatures have ensured it an enthusiastic reception. I’m hoping that the WSJ photo of pastry chef Sarah Cox’s single shot of espresso over “homemade double chocolate stout and milk chocolate ice cream” will rev up yet more interest in this Italian triumph of multi-tasking (dessert, coffee break, even breakfast, all in one).

I have fond memories of the first time I tasted an Eiskaffee, the German/Austrian cousin of Caffee Affogato. It was a layered production of cold brewed coffee (instead of espresso), vanilla ice cream and freshly whipped cream in a tall parfait glass. It was more than 30 years ago but I can still see the tiny café tucked away a cobblestoned alley in Innsbruck, Austria, and I can still taste the dark-roasted coffee, creamy ice cream and impossibly light whipped cream.

A more recent memory is of lunchtime last September at an outdoor café in Beame de Venise, France where my husband and I were biking with a Backroads bike tour group. The cranky waitress insisted she could not serve us caffe afogato or  eiskaffee, even though the restaurant featured a free-standing ice cream shop, and espresso, well, godssake, the French make an art of drinking espresso and smoking Gaulois. After listening to her emphatic “No, no, no, ce n’est pas possible,” I ordered a dish of vanilla ice cream and an espresso and, while she watched with an apoplectic stare, created my own affogato.

Here in Vienna I’ve found what is surely the most memorable take on this high-voltage brew.  At Pfarrwirt, a magical inn first established in the 14^th century (it’s said to be Vienna’s oldest restaurant), I was fascinated by the clever riff on Eiskaffee pictured here.

The tiny demitasse cup contained a shot of espresso crowned with freshly whipped cream; the silky panna cotta was flecked with vanilla beans;  crushed pistachios garnished the sphere of  soft vanilla ice cream; and, on the side, homemade cookies. Dark-roasted coffee beans dotted a decorative squiggle of buttery caramel sauce. It was a yummy surprise in a country where traditional usually trumps trendy.

We’re heading today to the Südtirol, Italy’s northernmost region and home of the imposing Dolomite mountains where we’ll trek for the next 8 days. Caffé Affogato will be our mid-afternoon coffee break each day.

If you’ve found a great version of this “energy” drink anyplace in the world, or concocted a great one at home, please do let this coffee-crazed writer know about it.

 

Having It My Way...In Vienna

Don’t you just hate it when you’re served a dish in a restaurant that you KNOW could be a lot better with a little effort? Last night we dined at Witwe Bolte (The Widow Bolte), a charming restaurant in the equally charming neighborhood of cobblestone lanes and Biedermeier houses called Spittelberg.

The setting was magical – candlelit tables under three graceful linden trees behind the centuries-old inn, a starry sky above, and a quiet buzz of contented conversation from the nearly-full house.

The food was good, too. Especially the paper-thin wisps of cooked beets dressed in a perfectly seasoned vinaigrette, and my husband’s Faschiertes Kalbsbutterschnitzel (yes, that’s one word!) which translates into a handsome sauteed patty of coarsely ground veal…one of the most elegant “hamburgers” you’ll ever see.

But my entree was disappointing, even though I was drooling over the name: Red Onion Risotto with Gorgonzola Cheese.

Served as a picture-perfect “puck” in the center of a white plate dressed up with ribbons of shiny  balsamic reduction, it was topped with shavings of a spunky gorgonzola. (Sorry about the photo's lighting...candlelit gardens are the best studio.)

Unfortunately, the key to the picture-perfect puck was undercooked rice that I found overly chewy and unpleasantly chalky.

In some settings I might have sent it back, but, trust me, that’s not an option in a traditional Austrian gasthaus with a cranky head waiter. At home, I would have simply dumped the risotto in a shallow bowl and added a bit of boiling water and stirred ‘til the rice absorbed it.

Determined to make the best of the dining experience, I ordered a bowl of rindsuppe  (beef broth) and attempted to “cook” the rice further myself. It was a valiant effort and pretty tasty. But I can’t wait to get home and try doing a red onion and gorgonzola risotto “my way.”