Matters of Taste

A Toast to the Fine Art of Bartending

I loved the recent New York Times article about “The Bartender of Your Dreams.”  Writer Frank Bruni roped me in with his first sentence:

“My mother had eyes in the back of her head; Doug Quinn must have them in the palms of his hands. How else to explain the way he muddled mint for a mojito — and went on to make the rest of the cocktail — while glancing alternately at the door to see if anyone new was coming in, at the far end of the bar to see if anyone was telegraphing thirst, and at the guy in front of him, who was babbling anew about something or other? Not once did Mr. Quinn look down at the drink. It was like bartending in Braille.”

Bruni goes on to paint a picture of the venerable P. J. Clarke’s on New York’s East Side and to praise Quinn’s (pictured here in a NYT photo) considerable talents, quoting kudos from other esteemed New York City bartenders. Dale De Groff, who last year won the prestigious James Beard “Outstanding Wine and Spirit Award,” says he drops in on Quinn often, usually in the wee small hours, which is when many other bartenders from around town congregate at Clarke’s after their own shifts.  “You’re not going to get a yuzu gimlet from the guy,” Mr. DeGroff said. “Ain’t going to happen. But you’re going to get a damned good martini.”

At a time when everyone with a shaker and a bottle of Schweppes calls himself (or herself) a mixologist,  it’s impressive to read about the real deal,  a guy with “speed, stamina, dexterity, personality and an awe-inspiring memory.”

Quinn holds court at the original P. J. Clarke’s on the East Side, where seasoned bartenders have been asking “What’ll ya have?” for 126 years. (There are now sibling saloons downtown and on the Upper West Side.) My husband and I were among the fans soaking up the classic ambiance, along with not a few Bloody Marys, in the early ‘70s.

After reading Bruni’s article, I'm excited to re-visit what some call “the Vatican of saloons." I plan to put  a Doug Quinn performance at the top of my agenda the next time I’m in New York. In the meantime, I’m sloshing together a Tanqueray & Tonic on this sunny Memorial Day and giving thanks for the fabulous bartenders and bar scenes I’ve gotten to know over the years.

These are some of my favorites. I’d love to hear about yours.

 I was first introduced to David Nelson (left) over a captivating concoction called a  Kentucky Tuxedo, a heavenly marriage of Bulleit Bourbon, Sherry, homemade lavender syrup and homemade orange bitters. But the engaging bartender/mixologist of Spur Gastropub and Tavern Law in Seattle has charmed me in many other way since that first sip.

At Spur, David’s creative, but never contrived, cocktails share the stage with the fabulous food of chefs Brian McCracken and Dana Tough. But at Tavern Law, it's all David, all the time. Even though McCracken and Tough offer a tantalizing menu, the focus at Tavern Law is on Nelson’s unique,  delicious drinks. It’s a treat to soak up the warmth and quiet energy of the room and to watch Nelson deftly whip up both classics and original potions. He loves to share his knowledge and passion with customers. Pull up a bar stool and you, too, will find out that Becherovka is not a Slavic dance.

 

Matt Murphy’s Pub in Brookline, Mass. may not be quite as raucous as the pubs I found in Galway and Dublin, but it does have flashes of that joy and spirit along with equal reverence for perfectly poured Guinness and Stout. Oh, yeah. And the food is light years better than most fare on the Emerald Isle. Owner Siobhan Carew and the rest of her team behind the bar are consummate pros, both at serving drinks and draughts, and charming guests. The fish and chips, served on wads of newspaper atop the battered old wooden tables, are outtasite.  In a lifetime of Happy St. Patrick’s Days (we with the surname Clancy take the day very seriously), I experienced my happiest at Matt Murphy’s. (Close runners-up: Little Annie’s Eating House in Aspen, and The Tombs in Washington, D.C.)

If Butch Cassidy had galloped into Telluride, Colorado just two years later, he might have ended up drinking up a storm at the hospitable New Sheridan Bar instead of robbing the San Miguel Valley Bank and getting himself thrown in jail. Built during the San Juan Mountains Gold Rush in 1891 (Cassidy and his crew did the dirty deed in 1889), the New Sheridan Hotel retains the look and feel of the period, even though the habitués today are more likely to be mogul skiers than metal miners. In keeping with the town’s persona, the bartenders are a casual, laid back bunch; efficient, outgoing, and seemingly very happy to be part of the Telluride mystique.

I don’t know how versatile the bartenders at Butch McGuire's are. The only drink I ever order    at this beloved Chicago Bar is a Bloody Mary because it is so damn awesome. But I do know that the gents have tons of personality, a great sense of humor, and get the drinks out with lightning speed. This 50-some-year-old institution, renowned for its Sunday Brunch eggs benedict special (the plate has FOUR eggs awash in terrific Hollandaise),  is also cherished for such traditions as the vintage model railroad that chugs through the saloon at Christmas time.

 

Around the World in Three (Delicious) Days…

The Culinary Institute of America (CIA) calls its annual conference in Napa Valley “Worlds of Flavor.” I’d call it Buffet without Borders, a three-day pig-out on great food,  and a crash course in how food-lovers around the world share tastes and techniques with one another, fostering communication and understanding in the process. 

Last weekend, I joined some 700 food and beverage professionals (chefs, restaurateurs, sommeliers, manufacturers, food service operators, caterers and food and wine journalists among them) to explore the developing trends that will impact the way we eat in the years to come.

“Frontiers of Food: World Street Food, World Comfort Food” was an in-depth look at the “casualization” of the fine-dining scene, and the growing variety of international flavors in fast food operations and volume food service.  “Americans increasingly want a whole world of new flavors, from Asian to Latin and Mediterranean, within easy reach, on a 24/7 basis,” said Greg Drescher, executive director of strategic initiatives for the CIA.  Indeed, one need look no farther than a taco truck in L.A., a Bahn Mi wagon in New York City, a dumpling kiosk at DFW, or the long lines of students jockeying for space at Harvard University's do-it-yourself stir fry stations to understand the phenomenon.

 

Founded in 1946, the CIA is considered the top culinary school in the country. The original campus in Hyde Park, NY is now joined by facilities in St. Helena, Napa Valley and San Antonio, Texas. "Worlds of Flavor" takes place at the sprawling Greystone Napa Valley estate. 

This year the imposing stone mansion housed a highly animated marketplace of hawker chefs from Singapore, street food vendors from Delhi and Mexico City, and faithful facsimiles of Spanish tapas bars, Bangkok market stalls, and the meze hot spots of Greece and Turkey.

 

The Opening Night General Session featured Rick Bayless of Frontera Grill and Topolobampo (Chicago) fame narrating a video of  his daughter and himself at their favorite taco stand in Mexico City; witty Turkish master chef  Musa Dagdeviren cooking lamb over open fire behind the main Greystone building; cookbook author Paula Wolfert making the paper-thin Moroccan crepes known as warka using a hot pan and a paintbrush; and  Paul Bartolotta of Wynn Las Vegas fame giving credit to the grandmothers of Italy for his impressive career.

Opening Night (photo left) also featured the “World Marketplace,” a two-hour graze-a-thon in Greystone’s historic Barrel Room, where participating chefs from around the world served samples of their fare. Dozens of stations offered the likes of white gazpacho, shrimp ceviche with local popcorn, fresh mozzarella from Apulia and lahmacun, a Turkish fried bread topped with minced lamb, vegetables and lemon juice.

This year’s conference included almost 40 seminars covering everything from “Hot, Sweet. Sour, Salty: Balancing Flavor in the South Asian Kitchen” to  “Fresh From Barcelona: Tapas, Cava and the Flavors of Catalonia.” In addition, more than 25 Kitchen Workshops were held in the massive CIA kitchen. There Roy Choi, of Los Angeles’ Kogi BBQ fame, taught the fine points of Korean barbecue and Suvir Saran, creator of Michelin-starred Devi in New York City, shared insights on "Mastering the Indian Tandoor."

 

As a lover of street food, I was fascinated to hear masters of that art from Singapore and Delhi, Mexico City and Bangkok. Rick Bayless, who moderated a session called “World Street Food, World Comfort Food: What We Want to Eat Now,” talked of the challenges involved in incorporating street food into the American landscape without sacrificing the authenticity of the experience. “What I love about street food is its thrilling immediacy,” said Bayless, a thought echoed later in the evening by former Gourmet editor Ruth Reichl who spoke of the appeal of getting food straight from the hands of the person who prepared it.

Suvir Saran told a charming story about the man who sells “the best chaat in Delhi,” explaining that the guy parks his rolls Royce next to his cart each day. He doesn’t sell chaat for the money, Saran says, because he doesn’t need the money. He does if because he wants to make the best chaat possible.

It’s impossible to wrap up the three-day “Worlds of Flavor Conference” in one tidy blog post. But in coming days, I’ll share some of the insights, techniques and recipes I learned while attending the Seminars and Kitchen Workshops.

Teaser: What country gets credit for the variety of elegant desserts available in Thailand and Thai restaurants around the world today?

 

Times Flies....When You're Eating Well

What’s it like to ‘eat for a living’?

 

Today’s edition of The La Jolla Light features my story about becoming its first restaurant critic 30 years ago, and watching the dining scene evolve over the years from margaritas-and-nachos territory to a sophisticated, trend-setting celebration of terrific  food.

 

San Diego residents and visitors alike will laugh at the vintage photos (at left, in 1981, a super cool Bertrand Hug watches chef Andre Mena do his stuff) and cry over the tarte tatin and confit de canard that they’ll never get to taste again.

Check it out.

Bavarois, Bahn Mi, Bloody Marys -- Life's Memorable Meals

Yesterday I joined KPBS-Radio host Maureen Cavanaugh on her morning program “These Days.”  Together with San Diego freelancer Caron Golden, we talked about the best meals we had ever eaten. (You can listen to or read the transcript on line at KPBS.org.)

The hour was a vast smorgesbord including opulent duck confit and Chocolate Bavarois, cheap Vietnamese sandwiches called Bahn Mi, summer corn risotto, “Oh-My-God” lamb chops,” bubbling cheese creations in a log cabin above Lake Annecy, and crispy, wispy Wienerschnitzel in the Tyrolian Alps.

When a caller brought up the subject of memorable  “exotic” dining experiences, I shared my story of lunch on Bangkok’s unique Damnoen Saduak floating market.  The market consists of scores of flimsy little boats bobbing in the river, packed with produce merchants, mini restaurants and hungry shoppers. (This photo is by Britannica.com.)

My husband and I hired a boat and guide to row us out into the narrow, vine-clogged canals. I ordered “soup” from a smiling vendor in another boat. I loved the dish’s vivid flavors and tantalizing textures -- rice noodles, fish balls, crushed peanuts, bean sprouts, and a spritz of mystery sauce.

When I finished, I handed the chipped ceramic bowl and chopsticks back to the woman, who promptly swished them “clean” in the murky river.

Clearly, I could have been a food-borne illness statistic. Instead, I got a happy “memorable meal” story to tell.

Later in the show, when Cavanaugh asked about memorable "home-cooked" meals, I reminisced about my “big birthday” dinner last summer, an extravaganza of baby grilled cheese sandwiches made with brioche, aged cheddar and braised bacon; heirloom tomato gazpacho with avocado mousse; baby beet salad with goat cheese; and Cabernet-braised short ribs with roasted Vidalia onion-potato puree.

It was all cooked and served in my home. Thus, I argued, that it was my most memorable home-cooked meal.

But it wasn’t cooked by me. Rather, chef Carl Schroeder of Market Restaurant, Del Mar did the honors and totally wowed my group of family and friends. (This photo of Carl is from Examiner.com.)

A New Look at Jell-O Molds -- An Airport Terminal, Anyone?

A couple of college blokes from England have come up with a new and hard-to-beat take on the “Whatever floats your boat” philosophy.

According to an article and slide show in this week’s New York Times:

“Sam Bompas and Harry Parr, two young products of Eton and University College, London, have become England’s leading “jelly mongers” – artists who create extravagant, shimmering, brightly colored compositions in gelatin.”

The two enterprising men have created a booming business out of turning their version of Jell-O into St. Paul’s Cathedral (above), wedding cakes, “a ziggurat inspired by the steeple of an 18th century church,” London’s Millennium Bridge and the Madrid airport terminal complete with weensy, wobbly planes (below). Too bad Mad King Ludwig isn't still around to commission a lemon-lime Neuschwanstein Castle.

The NYT article points out that “Besides chemistry, Mr. Parr, who was trained as an architect, and Mr. Bompas, who was in public relations, have had to learn engineering and a certain amount of cooking. At the end of the day, or rather at the end of the meal, a jelly has to be tasty.”

In addition to the flamboyant creativity called for in this line of "work," threre's clearly a certain degree of "nerd factor" in play. The duo make their own molds,  “designing them on a computer in the workshops of University College that translates them into three-dimensional models and transfers the specifications to a machine that makes plaster casts of the molds…”   Moreover, they collaborated with a chemistry professor at University College to use food-safe quinine to make a jelly structure that emitted a bluish "glow" under black light. See it on the awe-inspiring slide show.

Say "CHEESE" and Get Ready to Spend

Arrivederci Pellegrino. Ta Ta truffles. Bye Bye blue cheese.

The news that stratospheric tariffs will raise prices on a wide variety of imported foods later this month has hit the gourmand world hard.

According to a story in the Wall Street Journal this week, fans of Roquefort and Romano are caught in the crossfire of a raging trade dispute between the U.S. and the EU over an EU ban on imports of American beef treated with hormones.

You won’t let our tinkered-with cows in? says the U.S. Then we will slap a doozy of a duty rate on your stinkin’ cheese.

Though many gourmet items are destined to be affected – chocolates from France, lingonberry preserves from Sweden, Iberico ham from Spain – it’s the stinkin’ cheese from Roquefort sur Soulzon that stands to be hit hardest. Or rather, the fans of  the stinkin’ cheesse from Roquefort sur Soulzon.

While most duty rates are scheduled to go up about 100 percent, the plan is to raise the duty rate on Roquefort 300 percent.

Dubbed the king of blues, Roquefort currently costs about $30 a pound. In the WSJ article, a spokesperson for Murray’s Cheese in New York City estimated that her shop would have to charge customers “about $60 a pound to maintain its margin.”

The article sounded a hopeful note.

“EU officials say they re negotiating a compromise with their U.S. Counterparts to avert the punitive duties.”

But, as I see it, the immediate solution to the dastardly duty hike is to develop a taste for other blue cheeses, in particular American-made blue cheeses.

Here are a few that have impressed me mightily. With them in my fridge I can just sit back and watch all the politicians on both sides of the pond act like silly kids on a playground.

ATALANTA CREAMY BLUE

I knew this one was a winner the minute I experienced its bold flavor and rich, creamy mouthfeel. What I didn’t know was that Atalanta was the Greek goddess of travel and adventure who refused to get married until she had “traveled the world and enjoyed a few adventures” (according to Igourmet.com where the cheese costs $4.99 per half pound).  It’s a full-fat cow’s milk cheese with subtle veining and an elegant tang that pleases the palate instead of pounding it. It also comes in a Crumbly version.

CRATER LAKE BLUE

One of the many treasures coming from The Rogue Creamery in Oregon, this award-winning cheese is hand-made from unpasteurized cow’s milk, has an aggressive “blue” bite but a lovely buttery background to balance it. I love the romantic description that says its blue-green marbling is the same color as the water of Crater Lake. It costs about $13 per half pound.

SHAFT’S BLEU CHEESE

The package says Cedar Ridge, CA, but, in fact, this puckery, spreadable cheese gets its start with the milk of Wisconsin cows. The cheese is then shipped to California where it’s aged in an old, abandoned gold mine in the Sierra Nevada Mountains that was transformed into an aging environment for this distinctive blue. In France, the guy who ages the cheese in a damp, dark cave gets a lot of the credit for the final product. Not so in the U.S. Or at least until now. 
Aged for a year or more, Shaft's Bleu Vein Cheese has a robust flavor and an aroma that announces its presence several rooms away. I especially like it schmeared on a sliver of ripe pear. It costs about $14 a pound at Schaefers.com.

POINT REYES BLUE

Widely available, this isn’t a super luscious blue but it’s got great flavor and a pleasant crumbly texture that makes it an ideal choice for salads, canapés, potato salad, mashed potatoes and polenta, and compound butters.

 

Point Reyes Blue is made from the raw milk of Holstein cows that graze on organic, green pastured hills overlooking Tomales Bay north of San Francisco. A three-pound wheel costs $58 on the company’s Web site, which also offers a vast variety of gift-giving ideas.

GORGONZOZLA CREMIFICATO

Lumpy. Luscious. Scoopable.
That’s how this beauty is described on the Web site of Murray’s Cheese and I don’t think I can do any better.
Apparently this cheese has a higher water content than typical Gorgonzola, a fact that results in very discreet “pockmarks” of blueing rather than aggressive veining. The flavor is spicy, rich and totally irresistible. It costs $14 a pound; no word on how/if that price will change with the new tariffs.

Big Whoop!

In the proverbial blast from the past, the homely little brown, cream-filled Whoopie Pie was splashed all over the cover of the New York Time’s Dining section yesterday.

It seems that this low-brow staple of the 50’s and 60’s lunchbox is now showing up in upscale bakeries and restaurants across the country. The NYT article suggests that the “snacks invoke a more homespun era that seems to provide some comfort amid the economic gloom.”

The traditional Whoopie Pie is sort of cookie, sort of cake, sort of pie. NYT reporter Micheline Maynard describes it:

“The filling is generally of one of two types: a thick, sweet frosting made from Crisco shortening combined with confectioners’ sugar, or, more conveniently, a dollop of Marshmallow Fluff.

“The cake itself is typically not especially sweet, and is often on the dry side, since the frosting lends plenty of sugar and a gooey consistency, said Sandra Oliver, a food historian and columnist in Islesboro, Me.”

Maynard also chats with Amy Emberling of Zingerman’s Bakehouse in Ann Arbor, Michigan about the origins of the no-nonsense nosh.

“Food historians believe whoopie pies originated in Pennsylvania, where they were baked by Amish women and put in farmers’ lunchboxes. Tired from a morning’s work, the farmers purportedly would shout “Whoopie!” if they discovered one of the desserts in their lunch pails, Ms. Emberling said.”

I’m sure that yesterday’s tantalizing photo and vivid descriptions of pumpkin Whoopie Pies at Kim’s Kitchen in Evanston Illinois (pictured here) and buttercream delights at Zingerman’s will turn on a lot of  people around the country…and give a boost to the resurgence of the plebian Pie.

 But here in Seattle, where I’m parked for a while helping my son get over ACL surgery, all credit for the Whoopie Pie’s popularity goes directly to Quinn’s Pub, a new gastro-pub from Scott Staples, the genius behind Restaurant Zoë.

This is a Whoopie Pie to devour, with gooey fingers, and a good friend – it’s wrapped in aluminum foil and cut in half.

According to Quinn’s Chef de Cuisine Sam Crannell, the cake is made with lots of cocoa, a magical blend of whipped butter and Crisco, and just a little sugar. The stuffing is a fragrant vanilla buttercream.

“My sous-chef (Michael Robert Shaw) grew up on the East Coast and his Grandma made these all the time,” said Crannell. “It’s a childhood delight that we brought back and started playing with. It’s become a really big hit for us.”

The Whoopie Pie isn’t the only reason to head to this atmospheric spot in the Pike-Pine neighborhood. The foie gras mousse, served in a weensy Mason jar with buttery triangles of brioche toast, is extraordinary: light and elegant, smooth and exploding with flavor. The tiny Painted Hills meatballs are savory and nestled into creamy polenta. Homemade sausages are delicious and creatively garnished. And the Molasses Brined Carlton Farms Pork Loin with a Port wine glaze and buttery Brussels sprouts hash that I ate on St. Patrick’s Day (before the Whoopie Pie!) is a shoo-in for my Best Foods of 2009 list.

As if that’s not enough of a lure, Quinn’s is a particularly inviting pub,  that “hits the sweet spot between hangout and full-on restaurant” (according to Seattle Weekly), with what The Seattle Times called “a ramshackle chic décor.”

Oh, yeah. The prices. Snacks and small plates go for $3 to about $10 for the wild boar sloppy Joe with crispy sage leaves. “Large Plates” average 15 bucks.

Whoopie!

Pour Choice ... "Designer" Water on the Runway

 Anyone who’s visited this blog before knows that I am a passionate proponent of drinking local….as in, local water.  Waving a bottle of Voss Water (which is schlepped some  5,500 miles from Norway to the U.S.) in front of me is the equivalent of waving a red cape in front of a bull.

I thought I was on top of this issue. So imagine my surprise this morning when I discovered, courtesy of my fellow blogger Scott Joseph in Orlando, that Evian has introduced a new (glass) bottle for its precious H2O. Dubbed the Evian Pret-A-Porter Bottle (prêt-a-porter is French for ready-to-wear, as opposed to haute couture), it’s designed by couturier Jean Paul Gaultier. It’s expected that the chi-chi bottle will cost the thirsty consumer $13.95 per bottle. www.jeanpaul-gaultier.com

“Talk about missing the wave; this idea couldn't be further behind the time,” says Joseph, who is the authority on all things edible and drinkable in Central Florida.

The debut of the bottle was timed to coincide with New York City’s Fashion Week, commencing this week, where the world’s top designers strut their stuff.  In addition to the introduction of the bottle designed for “the masses,” Evian also unveils this week the Evian Haute Couture “Bubble” Bottle, another Gaultier  “masterpiece.”  Five of these, fabricated by the House of Baccarat in France, will tour different parts of the world for display during February, then return to Paris for auction in March. Proceeds from the auction will benefit an organization dedicated to preserving wetlands.

OK. So the new “snowflake” bottle is pretty. And I guess you could bring it as a hostess gift to a dinner party of teetotalers. Moreover,  for folks who are dying to own “a Gaultier” but can’t afford his blazer or bustier (that’s pronounced boooost-ee-ay…Madonna loves ‘em), this may just represent the opportunity of a lifetime.

Still, at a time when many unemployed people are struggling to pay their water bills and put milk on the family table, the idea of shelling out 14 bucks for a bottle of water seems to me to fall squarely into the fiddling-while-Rome-burns category.

Scott Joseph has it right. ”When you think about the timing, you have to wonder what they’re drinking at Evian headquarters.”

(Room-Temperature) Food For Thought

I’m as game as the next person to save money in these shaky times, and to safeguard the environment any chance I get.  Bring on the recycle bins, the "Al Gore" lightbulbs, the canvas shopping bags, the backyard clothes line.

But, life without a refrigerator? C’mon…..

The strikingly illustrated (left) story in today’s New York Times Home section reports on “a small section of the green movement (that) has come to regard the refrigerator as an unacceptable drain on energy, and is choosing to live without it.”

I did give the idea some thought. Went and stood in front of my refrigerator to evaluate  the contents for a few minutes too. Then shook my head in amazement at how some people can take a simple idea (reduce energy use) and make it complicated.

One example cited in the article, a fridge-free woman named Rachel Muston, says she keeps a freezer in the basement of her house and a small cooler upstairs. The cooler is kept cold by two-liter soda bottles full of water, which are rotated to the freezer when they melt. Since all meats and vegetables are kept in the freezer, Ms. Muston says she spends more time cooking – “which requires more time and forethought because items from the freezer must be thawed.”

By now,  only about 6 grafs into the story, I’m beginning to fully appreciate what we in the newspaper business call the "dek," that is, the smaller headline under the main headline.

In this one, the NYT wonders: “A few environmentalists are getting rid of theirs for good. Is it the ultimate eco-sacrifice or just eco-folly?”

Another example cited by author Steven Kurutz is a woman who jettisoned her fridge for a cooler that she refilled daily with ice from an ice machine in her office. Say what? And that ice was produced without electricity?? And exactly how much of that ice actually made it home into the cooler without melting? Oh, yeah. Then there were the days that she had to travel on business. ‘Nuff said.

Turns out the “Give me a refrigerator or give me death” stalwarts are equally passionate and, in my opinion at least, far more persuasive.

Deanna Duke,  a Seattle resident who writes a popular eco-themed blog called thecrunchychicken.com, sums up the Battle of the Big Chill:

“I think a lot of people in the environmental movement have a romanticized notion of living like a pioneer. But moving icepacks around and rotten food doesn’t have the same romantic appeal as hanging your clothes on a line.”

The article also includes a few stats supporting Duke’s decision to keep her OJ cold and her sour cream safe. For starters, modern, maintained fridges are not the energy hogs they’re being made out to be. A VP of Frigidaire is quoted as saying a sound fridge costs a homeowner about $40 a year to run, or 11 cents a day. Moreover, it’s estimated that downsizing to a mini-fridge  results in only about $6 in energy savings over a year.

Please pass the ice-cold Corona.

Next on the National Agenda: BEETS

OK. So what do we know about Barack Obama now that he’s been our President for a whole week? Sure, sure. He wants to close Gitmo;; stimulate the economy; and hang on to his beloved Blackberry. But most important, from the perspective of this blog, we now know that he “doesn’t eat beets.”

Clearly this guy hasn’t been dining in the right places…contemporary American eateries where cooks celebrate local, seasonal foods and add their touches of creativity to ubiquitous and low-cost ingredients like, say, beets.

If Obama could just get a taste of the colorful, comforting Penne with Gorgonzola, Beets and Toasted Walnuts that’s one of my favorites at New York City’s Union Square Café, he’d probably re-think this silliness. And if he’d be willing to try chef Jody Adams’ sophisticated yet satisfying Beet and Spinach Salad, then maybe, just maybe, he’d earn the title “open-minded” that’s being applied to him in the press.

Jody’s restaurant is Rialto (between the Charles River and Harvard Square in Cambridge, MA) and her cookbook “In the Hands of a Chef” is one of the all-time greats. I featured it -- one of the best I discovered in 25-plus years as Food Editor and Columnist -- in my farewell column in the Union-Tribune last year. It’s available at Amazon.com.

“The Union Square Café Cookbook” by restaurateur extraordinaire Danny Meyer and Café chef Michael Romano, was also on the “Thirteen Treasured Cookbooks” list. It’s also available at Amazon.com.

PENNE WITH GORGONZOLA, BEETS and TOASTED WALNUTS

2 medium beets (about 1 pound), scrubbed
2 teaspoons olive oil
1 tablespoon minced garlic
1 ½ cups sliced red onion
1 cup white wine
2 cups heavy cream
¼ pound Gorgonzola, crumbled
1 tablespoon plus ½ teaspoon kosher salt
Freshly ground white pepper
¾ pound penne
¾ cup toasted walnuts
2 tablespoons finely grated Pecorino Romano
2 tablespoons chopped parsley

Trim the tops and root ends of the beets (save the green leaves if they are fresh and cook them like spinach). Cook the beets, unpeeled, in lightly salted water until they are easily pierced by a paring knife, about 45 minutes.  Cool, peel away the loosened skin, and cut into strips as long as the penne and ¼ inch thick. Reserve.
 Heat the olive oil over medium heat in a saucepan or skillet large enough to hold all the cooked pasta. Cook the garlic and onions to soften but not color, 5 to 7 minutes. Pour the wine into the pan and raise the heat. Reduce  the wine until syrupy.
Stir in the heavy cream, lower to a simmer, and reduce the sauce until it very lightly coats the back of a spoon. Strain over a bowl, pressing the onions and garlic with a ladle. Return the straine\d sauce to the sauce pan and bring back to a simmer. Reduce the heat and slowly whisk in the Gorgonzola until it is completely melted. Season with ½ teaspoon each salt and pepper and set aside.
Bring 4 quarts of water to a boil and add 1 tablespoon salt. Cook the pasta until al dente and drain. Return the sauce to a simmer over a medium flame and add the pasta, stirring until coated. Toss in the beets and the walnuts, mixing lightly just until the sauce turns pink. Transfer the pasta to a warm bowl, sprinkle with the Pecorino and parsley and serve.

BEET AND SPINACH SALAD WITH GOAT CHEESE AND GRILLED FRESH FIGS  

4 small beets, washed
2 orange quarters
Kosher salt
1 teaspoon grated orange zest
¼ cup balsamic vinegar
1 teaspoon crushed toasted anise seeds
1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
1 teaspoon minced shallots
½ cup plus 1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil
Freshly ground black pepper
8 fresh figs, cut lengthwise in half
3 cups lightly packed baby spinach leaves
¼ pound fresh goat cheese
1 tablespoon capers, rinsed

Put the beets in a saucepan large enough to accommodate them in a single layer. Squeeze the juice from the orange quarters into the pan. Add the rinds and enough water to cover the beets by an inch. Season with salt, cover and bring to a boil. Lower the heat to a simmer and cook until the beets are tender, about 45 minutes. Allow the beets to cool in the cooking liquid.
Drain the beets, then remove the skins by rubbing them with an old kitchen towel. Cut each beet into 8 wedges. Place the wedges in a large bowl and toss with the orange zest and 1 tablespoon of the balsamic vinegar. Whisk together the anise seeds, mustard and shallots with the remaining 3 tablespoons balsamic vinegar in a small bowl. Add 1/2 cup of the olive oil in a thin steady stream, whisking constantly, until the vinaigrette is smooth and completely blended. Season with salt and pepper.
Preheat a grill pan over high heat. Brush the grill pan with 1 teaspoon of olive oil. Toss the figs with the remaining 1 tablespoon olive oil. Grill figs cut side down until browned and tender, about  a minute. Remove from the heat and toss with 1 tablepoon of the vinaigrette.
Add the spinach and the remaining vinaigrette to the bowl with the beets. Toss well. Then arrange on four plates. Crumble the goat cheese over the beets, garnish with the grilled figs and capers and serve.