Matters of Taste

Wine, Wine and More Wine...in Retz, Austria

Last night, a dazzling fireworks display in a seven-hundred year old town square capped off 2 ½ days of serious eating and drinking in the tiny wine town of Retz, Austria. By my decidedly unprofessional estimation,  there were more than a couple thousand party-goers belting back “new wine” and scarfing everything from “chile con carne” (note the quotation marks…..this town on the Czech Republic/Austrian border is about as far from Chile Con Carne land as it gets) and pommes frites to hot dogs, “American donuts” and pfandel, a concoction of cubed potatoes, ground meat and assorted veggies cooked together with ample fat in a hot skillet. (In Austria’s Tyrol region, the same hodgepodge is topped with a fried egg and called Groestl.)

The occasion was the annual Weinlesefest (translated from German loosely as harvest) which celebrates the Riesling, Pinot Noir, and Chardonnay grapes that make this region famous. (The area is officially called Niederosterreich, or Lower Austria.)

Fittingly, the “centerpiece”of the affair was the Wine Fountain that turned the massive stone fountain in the center of the square into a gurgling dispenser of local wines.  Revelers (who paid 3 ½ Euros to enter the square) were invited to fill their cups at the fountain for free.  Amazingly, we saw no intoxicated people (some very happy people, yes); no broken glasses and no outrageous behavior.

There was plenty of eating, imbibing, singing and dancing (to live rock bands on a huge stage set up in the cobblestoned hauptplatz (town square) on Friday night and all day Saturday. (Folks paid 5 Euros for a very nice wine glass and carried it around from booth to booth filling it with the wine of  each family-operated winery.) But the big day was Sunday, which dawned bright and sunny and a remarkably warm (for these parts) 65 degrees.

Throughout the day there were tractor pulls, an auto show, an earnest parade of wagons and farm machinery festooned with fresh flowers and overflowing with the pumpkins and squashes that the town is known for. (More on the famed squashes later this week.) A suckling pig sizzled on a spit in the center of town; a “fashion” show displayed the traditional garments of the area (such as lederhosen); and an arts and crafts program kept the kiddies happy.  

Later this week I’ll write about the spectacular biking we’ve done in this picturesque region and the equally spectacular food and wine we’ve enjoyed.

A Month in Vienna

I'm taking the day off tomorrow. I'll be traveling with my husband and friends to Vienna, Austria where we'll spend a month soaking up the culture, listening to the music, eating in restaurants, hanging out in cafes and konditoreis (pastry shops), visiting markets and cooking local food in a rented apartment.

Once I get settled I'll blog every day, with news from the city that the New York Times recently praised for its  "new energy in imposing, gorgeous streets."

This weekend, we'll be biking in Austria's wine country, where the town of Retz will stage its annual "Harvest" festival. The town is famed for its bike routes through vineyards and its extensive network of abandoned underground tunnels where wine was stored. I'm told the old stone fountain in the town square will overflow with wine instead of water on Sunday. Look for photos on Monday.

What nationality is that nut anyway?

The Wall Street Journal reports today on the upcoming deadline for all steaks, potatoes and kumquats to flash their passports at the supermarket.

Effective September 30, federal law requires that supermarkets and other big food retailers label or otherwise display the country of origin for meat, produce and certain kinds of nuts.  According to the WSJ, “the labeling rule is welcome news for consumers who base their decisions in part on where foods were raised or grown.”

Consumer advocacy groups have been pushing for such a bill for years, saying it can help shoppers avoid foods from countries with lax safety regulations. China has been headlining that list.  (Though, of course, we all know that we can encounter problems with the domestic food supply as well.)

Labeling is mandated for meat from cows, lambs, chickens, pigs and goats, as well as for fresh and frozen fruits and vegetables, ginseng, macadamia nuts, pecans and peanuts.

Foods that have been cooked or processed will not have the labels. Only retailers who sell at least $230,000 of fresh and frozen fruits and vegetables annually are required to provide the labels.

Don’t expect to see everything stamped with country of origin on October 1st. Meat, nuts and produce packaged before Sept. 30 does not have to be labeled. And producers will have the standard six-month grace period to comply.

Though the folks at FMI (Food Marketing Institute), a trade group for food retailers, oppose the labeling law, saying that compliance money could be better spent on food safety issues, others, including the Center for Food Safety, see this as one giant step toward  ensuring accountability in the food supply.

I’m happy to call myself a locavore. I won’t touch a drop of imported bottled water; I shop farmers markets regularly; and I always check labels in order to buy local or at least, American, when possible.

However, I also realize the importance of being open-minded and flexible when making choices. Yes, I frequently buy Muir fire-roasted tomatoes instead of San Marzano;  and
However, I’m likely to choose an Australian Shiraz over a California Syrah because of the value. I haven’t found an American cheese that can hold a candle to the La Tur or Robiola from Italy’s Piedmonte region. And I know I have plenty of company when I opt for New Zealand rack of lamb over that raised in Colorado.

  Last year I wrote in The San Diego Union-Tribune about the party atmosphere that envelops the meat department at Costco’s Morena Blvd. location every Friday afternoon. On that day, sales of the warehouse giant’s New Zealand-raised racks of lamb and chops jumps through the roof.  Weekend cooks who buy them cite the down-under version’s superior flavor and texture. For recipes, including Griled Lamb Chops with Pomegranate Eggplant Relish, check out that story.

Desserts I Can Only Dream Of

The new book “Frozen Desserts” by Francisco J. Migoya could just as easily have been called “Fantasy Desserts.”

 I mean, really, who among us has even dreamed of whipping up Chocolate Lemon Ice Cream with  Lemon Pound Cake Croutons;  Lemon Semifreddo with Coconut Bubbles and Black Sesame Seed Glass; or Pumpkin Gelato with Gingerbread Sablee Breton, Candied Pepitas, and Caramel Paper?

Caramel Paper!

As apparently anyone who’s ever been Executive Pastry Chef at French Laundry, Bouchon Bakery and Bouchon Bistro already knows, “paper” is a mixture of sugar, water and lemon juice that’s heated, poured onto a rubber mat, cooled, ground to powder in a robot coupe, spread on a rubber mat in a thin layer, baked, cooled, and broken into evenly sized pieces.

It didn’t take me long to realize that this remarkable book is geared primarily to professional chefs. Migoya is, in fact, now an assistant professor of bakery and pastry arts at the Culinary Institute of America. And he’s very comfortable throwing around words like “pacotized” (a new one on me, referring to a Swiss contraption that “shaves” ice cream), Brix scale (a measurement of the density and concentration of sugar in solution) and Bombe (a round ice cream treat to most of us, but a frozen parfait with 50 percent more heavy cream to those in the know.)

You pretty much know you’re in over your head when the chapter headlined Production Techniques for  Sorbets includes:

 “Classic Method: Using a Refractometer;” “Modern Method #1: Using a Sorbet Mix;” and “Modern Method #2: Using a Mathematical Formula.”

Nonetheless, this is a book for anyone who appreciates fine photography…the stunning photos could be hanging on the wall of a museum. It’s also for anyone who wants to truly understand the basics – Migoya’s explanations are patient, clear and concise. And it’s definitely for anyone wanting to stretch his/her dessert repertoire.

White Chocolate Ice Cream Cones with Osetra Caviar might be a bit over the top. But the  elegant French Macaron Cassis Sorbet isn’t all that hard to make. Burnt Milk Gelato with Mexican Hot Chocolate is a divine idea. And Popcorn Sherbet with Caramel Popcorn and Caramel Sauce will have your guests talking about your genius well into 2009.

Me? I’m thinking about tackling Peppermint Sorbet Cubes with Whipped Crème Chantilly, Devil’s Food Cake and Candy Cane Dust .

The book costs $60; $37.80 at Amazon.com.

Wild about Seattle's Spur Gastropub

You gotta love the spunk, the self-confidence, the smart-aleck cleverness of a menu that bills Buffalo Chicken Wings as Free-Range Chicken Confit.

 That’s Spur Gastropub for you. The barely-two-months old restaurant has won over the demanding foodies in Seattle’s hip Belltown neighborhood with its combo of creative ideas, right-on execution, comfy cosmopolitan décor and good value.

It was only after I had polished off my elegant chicken “confit” – tender, deep-fried nuggets  of chicken in a puddle of blue cheese and crème fraiche sauce, that I “got” the joke. Like the French ducky classic, this poultry fell off the bone with the barest nudge.  Like the wings that are a finger-lickin’ must with longneck beers and a football games,  they were crusty-edged, a bit greasy, and paired with both celery and blue cheese.

Spur’s menu is brief – no more than a dozen items total. It’s also what my Seattle-ite son calls “course agnostic.”  A description common to many of the newest eateries here,  it means a menu that lists offerings in no specific order and with no suggestions on what to order as first, or second course, appetizer of dessert.  You want a summer fruit tartlette with your martini? Go for it.

I Ioved the free-form salad of Chiogga beets, with pistachios and goat cheese under a canopy of  baby arugula leaves. I enjoyed the robustly flavored bison burger with provolone and “Tasmanian peppercorns” that was served on a homemade bun and almost buried under a blizzard of fine shoestring potatoes.

But the stars of the evening – two items my son deemed “shockingly good” -- were a smoked salmon crostini, pictured here, that looked simple but dazzled with subtle sophistication; and an citrus olive oil ice cream that demonstrated “molecular gastronomy” at its best.

An inch-square chunk of salmon replaced the traditional slices. It was cooked “sous vide,” a trendy technique that cooks food under pressure very slowly, for a very long time; then lightly smoked. The thin crostini, swiped with mascarpone and bits of pickled shallots,  allowed the salmon to shine.

The ice cream, shaped like a perfect egg, glistened. I slowly scooped off the outermost layer, releasing a bright citrusy aroma and filling my mouth with some of  the smoothest, silkiest ice cream I’ve ever tasted. Tucked underneath the ivory egg were crumbles of freeze-dried olive oil. I’m not a big fan of the chemistry lab school of  gastronomy but I was thrilled by the textural note and flavor that the mini olive oil icebergs added.

About the only culinary misstep I found at Spur was an overly acidic vinaigrette on the ruffly heirloom lettuce salad.  But that’s not going to keep me from going again soon to try the pork belly sliders with arugula and smoked orange marmalade on a brioche bun, or the slow-poached butterfish with English peas and morels.

Prices range from $6 to about $22, with most in the $12 area.  Reservations are accepted only for parties of eight or more. But there’s a large and welcoming bar area where you can wait for one of the dozen or so tables, or for a space at the communal tables.

The décor is simply chic, with a vague “Western” theme. Black-and-white stills of the West – wild and not-so-wild – are projected on a large wall screen. The bar is bustling with people who appreciate the interesting cocktail menu that prides itself on spirits from microdistilleries.

Spur Gastropub is located at 113 Blanchard Street. It’s open daily. Call 206-728-6706 for more information or reservations. Spur’s Web site is beautiful but rather minimalist; however there’s a link to the Spur blog which is fun and interesting.

More MozzArepas, Please

 Call it what you like: A multi-cultural snack.  Haserei. (That's Yiddish for irresistible junk food.) Fusion-food-on-foot.

 But I guarantee you'll call it delicious.

I discovered MozzArepas at the sprawling Third Avenue market Sunday morning on New York City’s Upper East Side. It didn’t matter that it was a blisteringly hot 90-plus in the shade, or that I had just polished off  a platter of scrambled eggs with cream cheese and chives at Sarabeth’s.

There was clearly no way I was going to by-pass the pale gold hockey pucks sizzling on a griddle with white cheese oozing out of them.

That’s the MozzArepas in a nutshell. Two delectable cornbread-like patties holding tight to a big wad of mozzarella cheese.

When I first glanced at the booth’s canvas sign, flapping in the breeze, I thought the name stood for MOZZArella and REPAS (French for meal). In fact, it’s the merging of MOZZarella cheese and AREPAS,  the cornbread discs that supposedly originated in the Andes mountains of South America and spread to many other Latin American countries.

Two big, hunky, T-shirted guys were manning the booth, moving the 30 or so patties around on the grill with all the focus of nerdy chess players. They slipped one disc into a little cardboard sleeve for me and took my four bucks.

I was hooked from the first bite. Sweet, buttery cornmeal. Hot, satiny mozzarella cheese. Crusty, slightly burnt outcroppings along the edge. And a moist center that started to crumble when I bit in, just like good cornbread is supposed to do. And, did I mention grease? A tad of that, too.

Though arepas have clearly been around for a long time,  the MozzArepas in the little cardboard sleeve is a still-growing businesss with a Web site that’s under construction but links you to the creators’ MySpace page.  For now, look for the booths at New York City's many street festivals. But I'm guessing that it's only a matter of time before something this yummy makes its way to other parts of the country.

Top of the Class

 Students at the French Culinary Institute in New York City take a final exam every night. And it’s not just a single demanding professor they’re trying to impress. Rather, they’re “performing” in front of 70 or 80 fussy food-lovers who expect them to know how to braise, bake and make béarnaise perfectly.

Their classroom is L’Ecole, the charming, white-tablecloth restaurant attached to the FCI in Manhattan’s Soho neighborhood.  The Institute has been training aspiring chefs for decades.  At L”Ecole, (French for “school”) they show off what they have learned.

  It’s an attractive, well-lighted space with windows on two sides providing city sidewalk entertainment. There’s an air of excitement and anticipation, thanks to students who genuinely love what they are doing and diners who relish the creativity and uniqueness of the experience.

It’s also one of the best bargains in the city.

The prix fixe dinner is $42 per person. Book your reservation between 5:30 and 7:30 pm Monday through Saturday evening and that $42 buys you a four-course dinner cooked by graduates of the school. Reserve a table between 8 and 9 pm and the same price treats you to a five-course dinner cooked by current students.

(Lunch is also served Monday through Friday; $28 prix fixe for a three-course affair.)

I dined at L’Ecole last night with friends and was impressed by the polished performance of everybody involved.  The FCI is, understandably, focused on French cuisine and the menu makes that very clear. The young chefs have clearly mastered the Gallic classics – an intense demi-glace,; a shiny red wine reduction; perfect pommes fondant (mashed potatoes); well-seasoned béarnaise; and a frozen apricot soufflé that soared way above its ceramic ramekin.

About the only minor disappointment was when they crossed the border into Italy.  A gnocchi appetizer was wan in appearance and wimpy in flavor (though the fresh peas and grape tomato sidekicks were  tasty.)

After a few stumbles by the front desk – we were first led to a table that was too small for our party of six – the service team went on to garner an “A” for its efficiency and enthusiasm.  When we asked for a peek at the kitchens, our server arranged with the dining room manager to give us a tour after dinner (we were among the last customers in the restaurant).

Among the highlights of the meal:

A sensational pissaladiere,  the wispy, thin-crusted “pizza” of Provence, this one topped with sautéed shrimp, diced tomato and basil chiffonade.
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pissaladiere

White bean brandade --  a clever riff on the classic French puree of salt cod and potatoes.

Weensy weensy mushrooms – we’re talking the size of a pencil point – with big big flavor…served with a scarlet-hearted filet of beef .

The intoxicating aroma of verbena and lavender wafting from the pale pink “fruit soup” that featured strawberries, blueberries and kiwi. A crispy tuile hovered over the soup;  a scoop of barely sweetened vanilla-ginger ice cream crowned the creation.

Restaurants Fight Back

Shitake mushrooms are subbing for morels.
Hanger steak gets the nod instead of strip sirloin.
Lump crabmeat garnish for that chilled gazpacho? Forget it.  Today the rosy soup will be garnished with paper-thin ribbons of daikon radish.

As Frank Bruni puts it in today’s New York Times story about how restaurants are handling the economic downturn, “It’s clear that it’s no longer business as usual.”

Across the country, restaurateurs and chefs are hustling to devise new strategies to make a buck at a time when consumers are increasingly reluctant to part with them.

Some eateries offer special twilight deals, more value meals, happy hour snacks and late night noshes that can stand in for dinner at half the cost. And extensive bar menus, with  comfort food at comfortable prices, are becoming the norm.

“A profusion of items with modest digits attached to them lures diners into the menu, reassuring them that they can navigate it without going broke,” Bruni writes.

Bruni’s article is primarily about restaurants in New York, a city that is notoriously impervious to the act of pennypinching.  In San Diego, some restaurants are opening on Sundays for the first time to attract a different clientele. Some are offering a special, price-wise menu mid-afternoon to capture the “ladies who shop.” Many are featuring smaller portions and a wider variety of appetizers for customers who want to make a meal of “small plates.”

The subject was discussed at length today on The Gourmet Club, a San Diego Union-Tribune Web site  talk show hour that I do every week with Robert Whitley and Caron Golden. 
Today our guest was the savvy, well-spoken Bernard Guillas, chef of The Marine Room. Long considered one of the most upscale and expensive restaurants in San Diego, the oceanfront Marine Room has its own arsenal of ploys to attract a skittish dining public.

Some of the best news in Bruni’s article is about wine service around New York, and, I suspect, around the U.S.

“People are spending less on wine right now, and they’re not spending to impress,” says Paul Bolles-Beaven, a partner of Danny Meyer of Gramercy Park and Union Square fame.  To that end, according to Bruni, servers are being coached to “spotlight affordable wines within diners’ narrowly circumscribed comfort zones.”
www.ushgnyc.com

Amen. As one who pretty much steers clear of restaurant wines over $75 (and even that kills me), I’m thrilled that something positive might come out of our sagging economy. There’s plenty of terrific wine out there that doesn’t cost 75 bucks a bottle. Maybe now we’ll all discover it.

I’d love to hear what restaurants in other cities are doing to keep happy customers coming in the door. Please tell us what you’ve found.

Comical Cakes

If you haven’t already seen it, take a look at the Web site CakeWrecks. But be sure you’ve got some free time on your hands and a box of Kleenex.

 

I just discovered this unique site that’s dedicated to professionally decorated cakes "gone horribly, hilariously wrong." I was laughing out loud by the time I found the Castle Warfare Cake, constructed largely of toilet paper rolls and featuring orange and red gumballs to simulate the severed heads on the ground. 

And I laughed ‘til I cried over the full-size replica of a bride that was entitled “When Brides Have No Budget (Or Taste).”  The blogger posited the question: “What kind of ego does it require to commission a life-sized replica of yourself in cake?”

The site asks readers to send in photos of cakes botched by professional bakers. The results may be tacky, tasteless, creepy or just damned stupid. Pictured here, far right, is a wedding cake called "a detailed bond Diorama," complete with crashed plane and teetering columns. And the self-described Anti-Wedding Cake with a dead groom at the end of a "bloody" trail???  It's hard to imagine what that bride had in mind, but if I were the groom, I'd watch my back.

I especially like the posts that include the brides' "inspirations" or "dreams" and the bakers' pathetic attempts to comply.

Here. left, we find the bride's vision which the blogger calls "not bad, I guess, if you've got a Brave Heart kind of vibe going on for your wedding."

The photo below shows what a PROFESSIONAL baker came up with.

The blogger's comments are even funnier than the cake shots themselves.

             

                                       

Erm. It's like seeing double, isn't it?

I mean, sure, the second one is collapsed in on itself, slumped over  to one side, and channeling a  bit more Bob Marley than William Wallace, but besides all that I’d say the decorator was bang on, wouldn’t you? Ok, ok, if you wanted to get picky about it, I guess that crack in the bottom – the one you can see the cake through? – that probably should have been iced over. Oh, and the red stripe might look a little nicer if it were one continuous line – or for that matter, if the line were straight. (Perhaps a little too much Red Stripe was consumed before icing the red stripe, eh? Eh? Come on, that was freakin’ hilarious, people: Bob Marley? Jamaican beer? Booya!)

For folks looking for a quick fix for the funnybone, CakeWrecks lists its most popular categories: Mithspellings, Oh-So-Ugly, Beyond Bizarre, Creative Grammar and Literal LOLs. .