Matters of Taste

Coqueta: The Best of Spain meets the Best of San Francisco

There’s a good reason why Coqueta is on the final ballot for the 2014 James Beard Best New Restaurant Award.

Actually, there are quite a few good reasons why this San Francisco newbie made it onto the list of the five best eateries to open their doors last year. (Winner will be announced at the annual Beard Awards in New York City on May 5.

                                     

Reason #1:  Pintxos, dozens of them, Spain's traditional skewered snacks lined up on wooden platters like a glamorous Rockettes chorus line. Pronounced  peen-chos, these are one- or two-bite offerings that pair perfectly with the house’s cocktails and wines, and that give diners a tantalizing hint of what’s to come. I loved the hopscotch game played by the pintxo of Spanish chorizo, roasted artichoke and piquillo peppers, as well as the skewer of Serrano ham with Manchego cheese and an apricot-Sherry chutney. (Photo by San Francisco Chronicle.)

Reason #2: Luscious duck and pork meatballs, with crisply grilled edges, a tart cherry puree and crackly fried shallot rings on the side.

                     


Reason #10 (Don’t worry, we’ll get to 3 through 9 in a minute.) Coqueta has one of the the coolest vibes in town, thanks to a packed house of attractive, animated guests and a dramatic décor complete with cowhide rugs,  handsome wood floors, rough-hewn columns holding the ceiling high overhead and a bustling open kitchen.  Woven leather chairs encircle rustic wood tables set with hammered copper water cups. There’s also an inviting “patio” (enclosed in cold weather) that was abuzz with party-hearty diners on the January night I visited.

                                    

Chef Michael Chiarello, famed for his Napa Valley restaurants Bottega and Tra Vigne, captures the sexy, vivacious vibe of Barcelona restaurants with this, his first real departure from Italian fare. He deftly marries the Spanish menu to the local, seasonal and organic ingredients at his fingertips.  The result is one of the buzziest and most delicious scenes in town.

OK. Back to the litany of lovable dishes.

                                     

Reason #3. New potatoes with crisp, lightly smoked skins and dreamy, creamy insides. Salsa brava and a spot of garlicky alioli (Catalan’s version of aioli) doubled the eating pleasure.

 #4. A pintxo of quails eggs “Diablo” with pickled mustard seed and Serrano ham.

 #5: Brilliant baby beets on a toothpick with Cana de Cabra (soft-ripened goat’s milk cheese), grilled spring onions and a spritz of citrus.

 #6: A chickpea flour pancake with juicy nuggets of shrimp inside and a drizzle of saffron alioli on top. (Photo from Yelp.)

                                       

 #7 Grilled beef shortribs, fork-tender and slick with a lip-smacking fino sherry-chocolate glaze.

 #8 Beet salad dressed up with just-picked watercress from Sausalito and the Spanish blue-veined cheese called Cabrales.

 #9 Rice, rice and more rice. Though Chiarello’s glamorous paella is a specialty of the house, our merry band of tapas tasters opted for the simpler Arros con Setas and loved the comforting fusion of caramelized mushrooms, slightly smoky Idiazabal cheese, braised kumquats and Bomba rice. (Photo by San Francisco Chronicle.)

                                    

By the way, Coqueta’s liquid offerings are as exciting as the food.  Would you believe seven racy riffs on the classic Gin ‘n Tonic?  And a by-the-glass list of some 25 interesting wines? With tantalizing cocktails like the "Castro" (tequila, fino sherry, Fresno pepper, lime and pickled carrot) and homemade sangria (red wine and sherry, plus ginger, berries and chamomile), it takes some self discipline to move on to the eating portion of the menu. (There are  creative non-alcoholic refrescos too.)

The James Beard Awards are the Oscars of the food world. Coqueta’s competition in the award for Best New Restaurant: Betony, Carbone and Estela in New York City, and Peche Seafood Grill in New Orleans. For a complete list of the awards and the nominees, see the James Beard Website.

 

 

Local Color: Katz Orange Restaurant, Berlin

On a short visit to Berlin last summer, I fell in love with the darling of that city’s booming dining scene: Katz Orange.

“The Orange Cat” is a small bistro-like eatery with a big personality and a commitment to local organic ingredients and an eclectic style of cooking. Occupying two floors of a handsome brick 19^th-century brewery, Katz Orange has a rustic charm and inviting ambiance that won me over the instant I stepped inside. (Actually, as soon as I stepped into the front courtyard which is dramatically illuminated at night.) (Photo from HollywoodReporter.com.)

                            
                                 

Inside, the lighting – mostly by huge candles -- is low and artistic; the furniture, an appealing blend of hipster modern and vintage. There’s an eye-popping red lighting installation on the ceiling, a cascading chandelier by the door, and a small “art gallery” in back. Servers are a friendly, accommodating group that includes an American sommelier in love with Pinot Noirs. (Photo by Scoop.it.)

                           

Katz Orange’s clientele, a mix of hip young people, important-looking older people, and everything in between, is eminently watchable. The vibe is comfortable, cool, and playful.

The food, too, is cool and playful, a deft blend of classic German, contemporary German and tried-and-true American favorites, such as Philadelphia  Cheesecake with fresh rhubarb. The focus is seasonal and locally sourced. The menu changes often and usually includes two Tasting Menus, along with a la carte options.

We started dinner with an elegant little salad of wild herbs, leafy, flavorful, and laced with raw marinated fennel, pear chutney, “sweet-and-salty” sunflower seeds, and a misting of carrot and fennel cream. Equally exciting was the soup of young spring garlic speckled with small ground lamb meatballs.

It’s not often that I opt for an all-American hamburger when I’m in Europe, but I couldn’t resist the handsome specimens being trotted past our table. It was a great choice: top-notch juicy beef, loosely formed into a massive burger, perfectly cooked and topped with homemade condiments. I loved every bite. Ditto every bite of the crisp French fries, cooked in organic goose fat, and served with lip-smacking homemade ketchup and curried mayonnaise.

                            

Asparagus Risotto was also impressive, its al dente rice studded with local green and white asparagus and roasted romaine lettuce, and crowned with a poached “farmer’s” egg (no store-bought eggs for this chef) and a drizzle of chervil-laced cream.

In addition to the Philly Cheesecake, seasonal mousses and a cheese selection, the Orange Cat offers a lovely little plate of petits fours that sends guests off satisfied but not stuffed.

                                    

Since we didn’t get to taste the dish Katz Orange is most famous for ---12-hour-cooked specialty pork, with champagne cabbage, braised onion and potato puree, we have a good excuse to go back to Berlin again sometime soon.

The restaurant, in Berlin's trendy Mitte neighborhood, is open daily. Prices range from 7 to 26 Euros ($8 to $36).

POUTINE: Delicious Dish or "Dog's Dinner?"

You could call this an “Out of the mouths of babes” story. Or, more accurately, an “Into the mouths of babes” story.

You see, it was my 20-something sons who got me to try poutine. They had discovered this Canadian creation at Whistler Mountain, B.C., then at Salt House in San Francisco. They both raved about the glories of the mishmash of French fries, fresh cheese curds and brown gravy. They marveled at how it was always served in an enormous portion.

                       

For years, I've listened and wondered where the hell I went wrong in raising these kids. I mean, really. What could possibly be appealing about a huge load of soggy French fries trapped in (barely)edible sludge.

But last fall, I decided to give poutine a chance when I was in Montreal, said to be its birthplace. (Technically the dish is thought to have been invented in either Warwick or Drummondville, small Quebec towns not far from Montreal.)

I was lucky enough to be guided in my exploration by Julian Armstrong, the former food editor of the Montreal Gazette and a close friend of mine for decades.

Julian was quick to defend the dish, saying that it was pretty darn delicious when it first became popular sometime in the 1960s.

“It came in an individual small soup bowl type of styrofoam container. This allowed the freshly fried fries to stand up in the bowl, with very fresh cheese curds dropped into the bottom where they could start to melt. Over this went a little chicken gravy. You raised a fry and it would have a slight amount of melted cheese dripping from it, as if you had dipped it in a good cheese fondue. The gravy was only a garnish,” she explained.

However, more recently, when she and a photographer were looking for poutine to photograph for her book on Montreal street food, she had a rude awakening.

“I found the arrival of a low, wide Styrofoam container and a super-abundance of gravy. The look? Dog’s dinner. What hath the popularity of this simple dish done to it?”

                                       

I opted to taste my first poutine at a popular food truck parked by Montreal's Convention Center. There were about 20 people clustered around the truck, waiting to order or pick up. Everybody was very jovial. This was clearly not just lunch but a cherished ritual. I was excited.

I stuck with the basic poutine, made at this truck with braised beef cheeks, which were very tasty. The cheese curds were OK; a little chewy and with minimal cheese flavor (cheese curds don’t normally have a lot of flavor anyway). But, oh, my, the poor French fries. When I finally rescued one from the gooey gravy sea, it was long past resuscitation.

My first poutine was likely to be my last.

But, for those of you who think you can, indeed, polish a meatball, there are poutine variations including Greek, with feta cheese and gyro meat; Italian, with spaghetti and tomato sauce; and New Jersey poutine with mozzarella.

Armstrong also tells me that Montreal's hot-shot chefs pride themselves on their “designer” versions:  Martin Picard of Au Pied de Cochon adds duck foie gras (below). David McMillan of Joe Beef fries his potatoes in duck fat and adds Stilton cheese. Chuck Hughes of Garde Manger adds lobster.

                                    

Moreover, each winter during Poutine Week, the chefs at some 30 Montreal restaurants try to outdo each other with the likes of poutine with lamb shanks, flower petals, fried eggs, Hollandaise sauce, roasted root vegetables and wild mushrooms.

Not a bottle of ketchup in sight.

 

The Great Gastro-Adventure of 2013

The only thing better than a mind-blowing meal in a magical setting is a mind-blowing meal in a magical setting when you know you’ve already burned off all the calories!

             

That’s pretty much my definition of a GastroAdventure. I had lots of them in 2013 but one stands out: A foray into the Austrian wine country called Steiermark (Styria in English) where we ate fabulous food at Restaurant Kreuzwirt and hiked during the day in the enchanting Altenbachklamm.

                     

Home base for the two-day adventure was Pössnitzberg (above), a family-run winery with about 20 elegant hotel rooms and a Gault-Milau-celebrated restaurant, Kreuzwirt.

On the day we arrived, we walked the serpentine country road called the Panorama/Weinstrasse (wine road), taking in the vast expanses of manicured vineyards, meadows full of flowers and cows eating them, and picturesque clusters of old homes and barns. That night we dined at Kreuzwirt (below), a sleek modern restaurant that appears to be floating in open space, thanks to two sides of floor-to-ceiling windows that were completely open on the warm June night we visited.

                     

Dinner was a thrilling procession:  A “martini” of homemade vermouth sorbet flecked with olive bits and herbs to mimic the “juniper” flavor of gin; a single raviolo (below) holding a poached egg, sautéed spinach, browned butter and shaved white truffle; local venison with summer mushrooms and tiny dice of speck (bacon); raw milk mousse and rhubarb sorbet, and more, much more. (Click here to read about the whole dinner.) Every course was accompanied by award-winning Gut Pössnitzberg wines.

                                   

The next day, after a terrific breakfast served on the sunny terrace, we drove 20 minutes to the trailhead at Altenbachklamm. (Klamm means gorge or ravine; this Website is not available in English but you can use Google to translate it.)

South Styria is well known for its hikes, especially the panoramic walks on country roads and through vineyards and farms. But we were looking for something more challenging and, given the fact it was 95 degrees, something in the shade.

                               

After a short hike thru some vineyards, we found ourselves in heavy woods and climbing steadily. A billboard at the beginning of the trail described how the Klammsteige (“ravine climb”) was created in 2009 by local climbers and engineers. This masterpiece of bridges, steps, ladders, and one unattended hut, turns a terrifyingly steep and dark ravine into a pleasurable day hike.  Miles of railings, ropes and iron cables allow hikers to traverse the challenging terrain, and crisscross the deep ravine over and over again. Bridges are numbered -- I lost count at 25 – with the most impressive being a 100-foot long suspension bridge.

                                       

A bit of dappled sunlight peeked in now and then but mostly we were in a cool, dark wonderland that we had all to ourselves. Ninety minutes later we emerged onto a vast, grassy plateau, and gazed out over the vineyards and valley floor from the terrace of Gasthaus Tertinek, a family-owned inn where we stopped for cold drinks and a donut.

You heard that right. A donut. Known as Krapfen in Austria, these beloved jelly donuts are almost always homemade and always scrumptious. The way I figure it, you can enjoy one completely without guilt if you have just clawed your way up 1,200 feet in a veritable jungle. (Photo by EuropeanBusinessJournal.)

                                           

That evening, we enjoyed a quiet dinner on a tiny outdoor terrace overlooking the Pössnitzberg vineyards.  We drank Sekt (sparkling wine) during sunset, then enjoyed iced cucumber soup, garnished with minced salmon tartar, that hit the spot on an 85-degree evening.  Next came a lightly creamed ragout of local mushrooms, studded with diced speck, topped with a fried egg from the neighboring farm, and accompanied by a small green salad. Apple-rhubarb strudel, drizzled with raspberry sauce, was a colorful conclusion to the GastroAdventure of 2013.

Like most of the wineries in the region, Gut Pössnitzberg offers appealing package deals. We opted for the “Culinary Time-Out” package that included two nights’ accommodations with buffet breakfasts, one dinner in the garden from the hotel’s menu, and the four-course dinner, with wines, at Kreuzwirt. The cost was 199 Euros (about $250) per person. For more details, check out Gut Pössnitzberg.