Matters of Taste

The Ratatouille Express: Rolling through Provence

The tomato rules in the south of France. During the summer, they’re paired with cheese, olives, capers and fresh herbs…in salads, cold soups and even desserts. I shot these beauties at the bustling outdoor market at Vaison-la-Romaine, a 2000-year-old town in the Vaucluse area of Provence.)

At Le Moutardier du Pape (the Pope's mustard jar) in Avignon, on the evening before our bike trip started, I found a terrific creation called “Tartar de Tomate.”  I expected paper-thin slices of tomato, but was pleasantly surprised by tiny cubes jazzed up with chives, capers and, maybe, a splash of vinegar. The very essence of summer, it was topped with a plop of what looked like whipped cream but tasted like a cloud of crème fraiche or sour cream. During winter months, Roma tomatoes make an appearance in tarts, tians (a shallow gratin with crackly pastry crust), hot soups, and stews.

But it’s in ratatouille that the tomato of southern France makes its most impressive performance.

During the week, our Backroads biking group was treated to this quintessential Provencal dish every day, sometimes twice a day. It was the hit of two lavish picnics that our leaders, Bronwyn and Alex, staged for us in Venasque and in Menerbes (at the fascinating “Corkscrew Museum"..more about that later.)

Classic ratatouille, which I learned to cook several decades ago from Julia Child’s "Mastering the Art of French Cooking,” consists of eggplant, zucchini, onions, bell peppers and tomatoes. The veggies are cooked, slowly and separately, in  LOT of olive oil in a Le Creuset-like pot, then folded together and baked until the flavors meld.  But, according to chef Laurent Wellecam of Hotel Crillon-Le-Brave, pictured below, (where our group spent a night), there are “a hundred different types of ratatouille.” Purists (and Julia) would no doubt argue with that, but Wellecam made a good case for tossing other ingredients into the pot to suit the season.

Pumpkin and butternut squash, baby artichokes and mushrooms….these suggestions all make perfect  sense to me. But it was his talk of fresh peaches, figs and nuts that really intrigued me. I can’t wait to get home and cook up a ratatouille of butternut and sweet onion, with a few slivers of sauteed pears and toasted walnuts.

Oh, yes, I almost forgot the “forgotten vegetables.” Wellecam’s a proponent of the trend to re-discover the glories of “les legumes oublies,” those fruits and veggies our grandparents used to cook…things like wild nettle, sorrel, potimarron squash, multi-colored baby radishes, salsify and romanesco cauliflower. (I even found a “legumes oublies” Web site based in Bordeaux, France.)

Hmmm. I think my second experiment will be ratatouille with baby green romanesco cauliflower and…..

By the way, San Diegans who get the same urge can check out Specialty Produce, the wholesale produce operation that’s one of the city’s greatest treasures.

 

 

 

Move Over, Santa -- Chimney Cooking in Provence

This week I’m rolling through the hills, valleys, forests and mountain-top villages of Provence, France on a Backroads biking trip.

Every day is a new culinary adventure.

Last night I spent some time with chef Laurent Wellecam at Hotel Crillon-Le-Brave in the “town” of that name. (The hotel occupies seven of the roughly two dozen buildings that made up this hilltop hamlet back in the 16^th century. Guest rooms are scattered among the craggy stone manses; the restaurant terrace is perched on the edge of the cliff; the dining room is a baronial space with a massive fireplace.

As guests started to fill the room, the 26-year-old Wellecam tended the glistening gigots d’agneau (legs of lamb) and well-burnished pork loins that were hanging above the smoldering wood fire. Carving one of the baby lamb legs – just enough meat for two people – he revealed rosy red meat and the fragrance of fresh Provencal herbs.

 

“I like simple cooking with very good products,” said Wellecam, who is from Avignon and trained in Switzerland, as well as with famed chef Marc Veyrat in Annecy, France.

“When I cook pork and lamb in the chimney over wood, very simply, you can taste the products themselves. There’s nothing on the plate that you don’t need. Everything is important. If I put a flower on the plate, it will be a delicious flower.”

Wellecam’s style is in sync with a growing appreciation, once again, for “old food,” bistro food, comfort food. There may still be plenty of hype about molecular gastronomy in the press, but most food lovers today are more interested in delicious food enjoyed at a table of laughing friends.

“To me, cooking is not about chemistry, it’s about heart,” Wellecam said.

In addition to the fireplace roasts, last night's menu included a chilled summer tomato and pepper soup, risotto made with ancient spelt wheat (instead of rice) and local mushrooms, a honey iced parfait with peach “carpaccio,” and local strawberries with crystallized lavender.

In the coming week, I'll be posting frequently about gastronomic adventures in Provence and Paris.

 

Waking up, with a smile, in Santa Fe

The world would be a better place if it had more people like Bill-The-Espresso-Man.

That would be Bill Deutsch, a guy who charms, regales, entertains, consoles, educates and inspires…..all for the price of a cup of joe.

 Bill is proprietor of Holy Spirit Espresso, a Santa Fe, New Mexico institution that I stumbled upon last week while attending the annual conference of the Association of Food Journalists (AFJ). Bill’s coffee depot is the proverbial hole in the wall...I estimated about 6 ft by 7 or 8 ft. There’s only enough room for one or two customers on one side of the counter and Bill, in all his “yo, the seventies want their funk back” glory on the other. 

Hanging from ceiling and walls are bank notes from all over the world. While I waited for my latte one morning, a bellhop from the nearby Eldorado Hotel bounced in to greet Bill and give him an exotic-looking bill that I didn’t recognize.

The entire façade of the counter is plastered with postcards sent to Bill from around the world  from people who were clearly as smitten by him as I was.

This guy is a one-man show that’ll wake you up better than a grande coffee with an added shot. He’s a raconteur who’s never met a pun he didn’t like.

Oh, yeah. The coffee’s terrific, too. Bill gets his beans from Caffé d’Arte, one of Seattle’s best know and loved coffee companies.  www.caffedarte.com/

The Best-Ever Way to Make Pizza

Okay. Let’s make that “The Best-Ever Way to Make Pizza if You Don’t Happen to Own a Fancy-Schmancy Wood-Burning Oven Imported from Italy.”

Recently I discovered the joys of making pizza on the backyard grill. In the process of creating recipes for a story in Coastal Living magazine, I tossed some pizza dough on our Kirkland gas grill, and was blown away by the way it poufed up into a camera-ready pie in two minutes flat.  

For my story – a SoCal Thanksgiving celebration -- my editors at Coastal Living wanted an appetizer that Turkey Day guests could nibble while sipping aperitifs on an oceanfront bluff. (Yes, it’s true that most November days here are warm enough for an outdoor, mid-day feast.) I figured pizza would be easy to make, and everyone could gather round the grill while it cooked. What I didn’t figure on was that I’d never go back to a pizza stone and 450-degree oven again. Ever.

I’m afraid I can’t give you the scrumptious recipe right now. You’ll have to wait and see the November issue of the hip, handsome magazine. Let’s just say it involves peppered smoked salmon. Let’s just say you’re gonna love it. (I probably could have done a better job on this photo, but it would have meant waiting a few extra minutes to eat the pizza. Never gonna happen.)

However, I can tell you now that grilling pizza is the way to go. Last night I experimented some more, this time with a blob of Trader Joe’s freshly prepared pizza dough. (It’s sold in the refrigerator case and must be used within a few days of purchase). I brushed the rolled out slab with a bit of olive oil; oiled the hot (but not too hot) grill; tossed the doughy disc on and closed the lid.

After one minute, I flipped the dough gingerly. It had beautiful grill marks and dramatic air  bubbles. After another minute I removed the finished dough to the side of the grill, layered on thin slices of mozzarella, then spooned on a mixture of halved cherry tomatoes, chopped sweet onion, fresh basil, snipped chives, salt and pepper. Back onto the grill (with the heat turned off) for another couple minutes, and, finally, a pizza worth shouting about.

Check out the story in Coastal Living November. for much, much better photos, and the recipe.

 

Tequila Tutorial

About 60 of the country’s professional food writers gathered last week in Santa Fe, New Mexico for the annual conference of the Association of Food Journalists. (AFJ) That means seminars on subjects such as Native American Cuisine, Chocolate & Chilies, and Memory and Experience in Food Writing.  It also means long hours at tables laden with the best food this city’s imaginative chefs have to offer. Oh yeah, it also means tequila….lots of it.

One day Al Lucero, a jovial gent who happens to own Maria’s New Mexican Kitchen, led the group on an hour-long tequila tasting and tutorial. (This tempting photo is from Variety.com which offers an unusual margarita recipe.) I’ve never been a fan of that particular spirit…finding that gin has far more fragrance, and bourbon far more spunk. But I went along for the ride and discovered some fascinating facts. 

**Tequila can only be made in Mexico, where the government strictly regulates its production.

**Only blue agave can be used to make tequila. It’s a relative of the lily and the aloe vera plant.

**The plant is harvested, hacked up, steamed, mashed, strained, and double distilled. Yeast is added, nothing more.

**If the bottle says “Silver,” it’s 100 % agave, taken straight from the still to the bottle. If it says “Reposado,” it’s 100 % agave that’s been aged for 60 days in oak barrels. “Anejo” is 100 % agave that’s been aged a year in oak barrels.

**If the bottle says “Mixto,” it’s 51% agave and 49 % sugar water.

**Oak barrels give the older tequilas a hint of yellow-gold color. On the other hand, Jose Cuervo’s Mixto is colored by a caramel mixture, according to Lucero, who hastened to add that Jose Cuervo Mixto is a high-quality product that makes an excellent margarita.

**It's a no-no to use a blender on a margarita unless fruit is involved; and the less said about margaritas in which fruit is involved, the better.

Lucero, who says he serves 3,000 hand-shaken margaritas a week at Maria’s, also weighed in on the origin of the margarita. He insists that the drink was concocted in Palm Springs for Bing Crosby and his cronies. Or, to be more precise, the women who hung out with Bing Crosby and his cronies.

According to Lucero, the gents were accustomed to drinking tequila as “a shot, a lick and a bite,” meaning, down it, lick salt off your fist and chomp a lime wedge. But, as more wives and girlfriends starting showing up at the increasingly popular desert hideaway, bartenders needed to come up with something more, er, ladylike. “An enterprising bartender came up with the idea of shaking tequila with Cointreau,” said Lucero, who added that this is his favorite explanation, though his book "The Great Margarita Book" offers 30 or so other versions of the creation story.

Our group got to sample Maria’s 100% Agave House Margarita at a cocktail party featuring food from 10 of the city’s best restaurants. Served, with crushed ice, in a balloon-style stem glass with a heavily salt-encrusted rim, it was made with Jose Cuervo Tradicional, Bols Triple-Sec and freshly squeezed lemon juice. I wasn’t crazy about the potion, finding it too sharp for my tastes. During the tasting that Lucero led earlier in the day, I discovered that I greatly prefer anejo tequila (aged in wood for a year) to silver (straight from the still) or reposado (which is what Cuervo Tradicional is). I also greatly prefer fresh lime juice to lemon juice.

However, one margarita does not Maria’s New Mexican Kitchen make. The drink menu is an eight-page affair with more than 170 different margaritas, including the Paradiso which is made with El Tesoro anejo tequila, Grand Marnier’s Special Anniversary Cuvee and lemon juice. It  costs $48 a pop.