Matters of Taste

The 50 Best Restaurants in the World --- Says Who?

I recently checked out Restaurant magazine’s list of “The World’s 50 Best Restaurants of 2013” and discovered that I had dined at about ten of the winners. But a couple weeks ago, I stumbled upon a restaurant in Austria’s remote Steiermark (Styria) wine country that outshone all of them.

(Those lists always crack me up, by the way. First, critiquing food is a highly subjective business --- one man’s foie gras is another man’s chopped liver. Second, the winners often have well-oiled PR machines that do their jobs as well or better than the chefs.) 

                       

My lucky find was Kreuzwirt near the one-block town of Leutschach. (To give the place some context, it’s near Graz, home of Wolfgang Puck and Arnold Schwarzenegger.)

Kreuzwirt is the restaurant at Gut Pössnitzberg, a respected winery, specializing in sparkling wine for more than 40 years. Gerhard Fuchs, the chef, has three “toques” from Gault-Millau and was that guide’s “Chef of the Year” in 2004.

Fuchs kicked off our dining adventure with a fascinating “martini” –-- a scoop of homemade vermouth sorbet in a tiny martini glass, flecked with olive bits and herbs to mimic the “juniper” flavor of gin. Three small bites packing a wallop of flavor and fragrance. 

Other complimentary hors d’oeuvres followed: crackly pastry shells filled with a pesto of local herbs; house-cured salami, so thin it melted on the tongue; and Schwiegermutterzunge (“mother-in-law tongues!”) -- four flat, wafer-thin, translucent bread sticks, held together by a pretty ribbon.

 

                                     

 

He then moved on to a single raviolo of indescribable yumminess – fragile pasta dough holding one perfectly poached egg from the neighboring Freiland farm. One prick of my fork and the bright yellow juices popped out to mingle with sautéed spinach, browned butter, and a shower of shaved white truffle.

The next dazzler was a diminutive noisette of Maibock, a type of local venison, pan- sauteed an appealing pink all the way through, with fresh sage and a type of brown bean that was so fat and meaty it served as a “starch” on the plate. The shiny natural juices were enhanced by coarse lemon-infused salt and pretty sage blossoms. Since Fuchs likes to serve his entrees “two ways,” we were then treated to tender chunks of Maibock in a stew of sautéed local summer mushrooms, tiny dice of speck (bacon) and Mairüben (early spring turnips), with just a touch of shallot-scented jus. One Knödel (dumpling) dusted with grated cheese, sat in the middle and a crackly strip of dried bacon (from Freiland) straddled the bowl.

 

                                  

 

Desserts were equally impressive. One, called “Milk & Blossoms,” featured a mousse of raw milk topped with a tiny oval of rhubarb sorbet and a drizzle of vinegar and olive oil. The other, a quivery panna cotta flavored with Waldmeister, a local herb, was served with a petite piece of cream-filled strudel topped with chopped strawberries.

Fuchs is creative without being flashy. Contemporary, without throwing the classics to the wind. He uses “modernist” techniques to get the flavor he wants, not to put on a magic show. The way he handles fresh herbs is nothing short of genius.

And the setting at Kreuzwirt is totally magical. What was once an unremarkable 1950’s building is now a sleek and stylish “box” of wood, steel and glass superimposed on the walls of an old basement. The dozen or so beautifully dressed tables look like they are floating in open space, thanks to floor-to-ceiling windows that open and hide without a trace. We felt we were sitting smack in the rolling green vineyards outside.

                        


As the sun set and the moon peeked out, we sipped the last of our wines, a silken Sauvignon Blanc Trockenbeerenauslese and celebrated our good fortune in discovering a spectacular dining experience that could easily break the Top Ten on any gastro list.

For more details, check out Gut Pössnitzberg. The winery has about 20 inviting hotel rooms, many with large balconies overlooking the vineyards.  We opted for the “Culinary Time-Out” Package for 199 Euros per person (about $250), a great value that included two nights accommodations with buffet breakfasts, one dinner in the garden from the hotel’s menu, and the four-course dinner at Kreuzwirt, with excellent wines matched to each course. 

Looking for a Good Meal; Finding a Lost Grandpa

Our short stop-over in Wroclaw, Poland last week had an agenda, something far more important than finding the best borscht in town.

My husband’s grandfather, Georg Schiftan, whom he never met, was born in 1875 in Breslau (Wroclaw’s name when the city was part of Germany, up until 1945). His great-grandfather, Ernst, was born there, too, and lived in the city until sometime around the turn of the century. My husband, who learned little about the two men from his parents, now deceased, recently decided to learn more.

After scouring documents found in family scrapbooks  --- birth certificates and a wedding license indicating that Ernst was a restaurateur ---- he planned a trip to the Schiftan ancestral home of Breslau/Wroclaw.

                                  

On our first full day we went to the Jewish Information Center, visited the woefully neglected Jewish Cemetery on the outskirts of town, and walked around the neighborhoods of Wroclaw looking for the few old addresses we had.

One of them, Rynek 4, was a beautiful building in the middle of the town’s most important market square, pictured above. (The Schiftans had lived at Ring 4; we eventually figured out that Ring translates into Rynek in Polish.) Today the impressive block is home to many restaurants and cafes, including Lwowska at #4.  (The restaurant specializes in Polish food and specialties from Lvov, a city formerly in southeastern Poland, now part of Ukraine.) 

                                           

We decided it would be cool to have dinner in the building (above) where the Schiftans had once lived. Sure, it was highly unlikely we’d have a table in what was their actual apartment, but just to be there seemed the right thing to do.

Our dinner at Lwowska was nothing short of magical. The series of rooms on the second floor was elaborately paneled in wood and festooned with magnificent arrangements of dried flowers and tree boughs. In the center of our table was a small birch-like tree branch with two precious nosegays of dried flowers resting on it. Glamorous old chandeliers and hundreds of candles cast a soft light; a natty gentleman played softly on an upright piano. (There’s also an old-world bar on the ground floor, and a beautiful sidewalk terrace.)

                                           

Our server first brought a basket of excellent breads and rolls and a small ramekin of something that looked like paté but tasted to me like pure fat. (The “when in Rome” gig only goes so far.)

My appetizer of beet soup was fabulous: a clear, shimmering magenta broth with a luscious sweet-tart flavor, dotted with a few mediocre koldunami, Polish dumplings. We also tried the “Jewish salad” which turned out to be a mix of potatoes, onion and hard-boiled egg, all held together with mayonnaise.

The entrees on the heavy, leather menu included steaks and chops along with traditional dishes. The Roladki, rolls, were delicious “meatballs,” made from ground chicken, red pepper, sheeps milk cheese and local smoked ham. The texture was sensational.

Not to be deterred by the boring dumplings floating in my soup, I ordered Pierogi Mieszanych or “mixed.” Described as “ruskie ravioli,” they were plump and tender and sautéed until the edges were browned and crisp. The fillings included a well-seasoned cabbage-and-mushroom mixture, a savory potato-and-cheese number, and a less exciting ground meat pierogi. (They looked just like these dumplings in a photo from a Polish Website.) We drank Lwowska’s own beer on tap and a bottle of Lindeman’s Shiraz which our served recommended with great enthusiasm.

                                          

At dessert time we by-passed the highly touted baked apple and went for the traditional Lvov wafer cookies filled with chocolate and chopped walnuts and topped with a cloud of whipped cream. The whole exotic feast came to 251 Zlotys or about $35, to which was added a whopping 31 percent in taxes.

The next morning we visited a University library that housed the city’s “address books” back to the early 1800s. After much consternation on the part of the guards and librarians --- no one spoke a word of English – we encountered a young man who spoke German and showed us to the room housing the books. We explained briefly to him about our search for a great- grandfather who lived at Rynek 4 and .was a restaurateur. He left us with the books and returned about 20 minutes later, asking in hushed tones “was the restaurant called E. Schiftan?” When I answered a startled “yes,” he asked us to follow him.

In a room down the hall,  he held up a large photo of the block of houses including Ring 4, dated 1903. He focused a jeweler’s magnifying loop on the picture and told us to look. There, on the façade, where Lwowska stands today, was “E. Schiftan Restaurant.”

                                      

Our evening at Lwowska suddenly took on new meaning. No longer just a feast of pierogi, meatballs and chocolate wafers,  it had been a memorable family dinner with the grandpa and great-grandpa my husband never knew.

 

Beet Soup in Poland -- Don't Forget the Bib!

Last week, in just 24 hours in Wroclaw, Poland, I managed to slurp three different versions of beet soup. All three were fabulous –-- with shimmering magenta color and beguilingly sweet flavor. But it’s a messy business, this beet soup slurping. A splash here, a splash there, and that white North Face fleece is history. Ties? Forget about it.

                                        

Late last Tuesday we arrived in this medieval town that was called Breslau when it was part of Germany. (The city was given to Poland after WWII, German citizens were kicked out, and Poles from eastern Poland, annexed by Russia, were moved in.) Following a New York Times tip, we went to the restaurant “Sarah”for dinner. Tucked away on a dark, narrow street in what was Breslau’s Jewish Quarter, Sarah is said to be the only “Jewish” restaurant in the city. Two enormous menorahs sit in the large storefront windows. The interior, a small room with a tiny, two-stooled bar and about 10 tables, is warm and inviting. Tables are covered with cotton lace tablecloths and centered with assorted vintage silver candlesticks. Silverware is old and mismatched. Mirrors and furniture are old and mismatched. The whole place feels like Grandma’s dining room.

                                        

Sarah’s was beet soup #1. Barszcz czysty, which translates as “clear borscht.” I opted to jazz it up with a few cubes of boiled potato and a plop of sour cream, which added a lot more z’s to the name: Barszcz czerwony z ziemniakami zabielany smietana, and 50 cents to the cost which was about $3 for a large bowl.

Sarah’s soup was clear and shiny, the most vivid fuschia color I’ve ever seen on a plate or in a bowl. The taste was startlingly pure – earthy yet sweet. The potatoes were superfluous; the sour cream added a nice creaminess though I hated to lose the brilliant red.

The next day at lunchtime we popped into the small but inviting Soul Café on one of the town's many beautiful squares. It was cold and rainy so I ordered a bowl of beet soup, which arrived steaming, in a small white ceramic tureen. This was my favorite, a fragrant fuschia broth, with powerful beet flavor, and packed with tiny nubbins of celery, onion, carrot and sausage, all delicious and all stained bright red.

                                    

                    
That night we dined at Lwowska (below, in a photo from Forbes) on the central market square and I encountered beet soup #3, a clear, shimmering red broth with the intense flavor and captivating sweetness I had, by now, come to expect from Polish beet soup.

                        

Of the various options available, I chose the soup with koldunami, “homemade stuffed dumplings.” But, unlike the delicious goodies swimming in Soul Café’s soup, these starchy dumplings were a distraction, taking away from the intensity of the vegetable broth. (More about Restaurant Lwowska in my next post.) 

By the way, beet soup is never going to win any beauty contests. I didn’t take photos because my three soups were very plain and the lighting was marginal. In browsing the Internet I found hundreds of beet soups but not one that looked like the brilliantly clear, magenta soups in Wroclaw. 

Meatball Madness --- Continued

On a trip to Philadelphia earlier this month, I encountered meatballs on almost every menu I perused. The splendid orbs pictured here were at Tinto, chef Jose Garces’ celebration of pintxos, the Basque version of tapas (pronounced Peen-choes).

                      


Coarsely ground and artfully spiced, sauced with piperade, (the spunky Basque menage-a-trois of onion, bell pepper and tomato), and snuggled into a clay pot along with one perfectly poached egg for dunking, this meatball experience was deliriously delicious.

So delicious, in fact, that I broke down and ordered a second dish after our group of four had polished off a procession of 11 plates including a satiny big-eye tuna tartare bocadillo with chorizo aioli; lamb chops with artichoke puree and Seville oranges; shrimp brochettes with espelette chile; and some of the crispiest patatas (shaped like marshmallows and served with tomato compote and blue cheese cream for dipping) that I’ve ever tasted.

Tinto, named for the colloquial reference to the red wines of Northern Spain, is one of the half-dozen Philadelphia eateries by Garces, who won the James Beard Award for Best Chef Mid-Atlantic in 2009. His first restaurant, Amada, was opened in 2005. I  loved the “small plates” at that restaurant, too, especially the suckling pig bocadillo, and the Spanish flatbread with grilled shrimp, chorizo and garbanzo bean puree. Both restaurants offer extensive lists of interesting, lesser-known wines, by glass and bottle.

On a Roll: Magnificent Meatballs in San Diego

The lowly meatball, once content to park itself atop a tangle of sauced spaghetti, continues to roll merrily along at the front of the trend parade.  Just this week, a new restaurant opens in Denver, Zeno’s Meatball Kitchen, with eight types of meatballs including beef fajitas meatballs called  “Cojones,” “Blue Balls” with blue cheese and bacon, “Great Balls of Fire” made with chorizo and ranch slaw, and “Fowl Balls,” no explanation required.

But I’m happy to report that two of the best versions I’ve tasted in the last year are right here at home in San Diego.

                         

At The Fishery in Pacific Beach, chef Paul Arias hits the jackpot with his Spaghetti with Swordfish Meatballs (above). Cubes of impeccably fresh fish are loosely mixed with oregano, basil, garlic and parmesan cheese, with a bit of beaten egg and breadcrumbs to hold it all together. After a turn in a hot sauté pan, this hefty meatball has delicious little bits of char that contrast with the moist insides.  

Arias then stews the meatballs in a savory tomato sauce, adds them to hot spaghetti, and dusts the winning concoction with basil, roasted cherry tomatoes, grated lemon zest and toasted breadcrumbs. The aromas, tastes and textures add up to quintessential comfort food.

The Fishery, which opened its doors as a seafood restaurant-wholesaler in 1997, is well known and admired for the quality of its fish, and its progressive efforts to support healthy marine life and sustain local economies. That means, you won’t get a better piece of swordfish anywhere. And, you’ll only get Swordfish Meatballs at The Fishery when it’s the right season to fish the big whoppers.

It also means that Chef Arias has access to parts of the swordfish --- like the belly he uses for the meatballs --- that we mere mortals can’t buy. So, while I fully intend to experiment in my own kitchen with this yummy new discovery, I also plan to order my new fave at the restaurant every chance I get.

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There are lots of reasons to visit Brooklyn Girl Eatery, Mike and Victoria McGeath’s newest restaurant, in Mission Hills -- the luscious Chocolate Bourbon Bread Pudding and the juicy Williams Burger with blue cheese and cherry wood bacon among them. But it’s the Bacon Wrapped Vietnamese Meatballs that drove me mad last fall, and keep driving me back to the restaurant again and again.

                      


A combination of freshly ground shrimp and pork, the balls are smartly seasoned, light and airy. Each chunky orb is wrapped in a crackly bacon blanket and glossed with a lip-smacking sweet ginger glaze.  A trio is tucked into an artsy dish and topped with a vivid “Tiger Slaw” that seemed to me to involve cabbage, bell pepper, onion, carrot, celery leaves and ginger.

Listed in the “Street Starts” section of the menu, the Vietnamese Meatballs are designed to be shared as an appetizer. But, I’m warning you upfront: You want to be the pushiest person at your table, with the quickest fork, because everybody goes crazy over them.

                                      

They also go crazy over the whole Brooklyn Girl scene. The place is great looking, open and airy, with big-city style and a happy, high-energy crowd. The vast space is divided into a curvaceous bar area with creative lighting and assorted seating arrangements; an inviting dining area with floor-to-ceiling windows and dominant art on the walls; and a sunny corner café where you can watch bakers and cooks doing their thing. (Brooklyn Girl is open for brunch, lunch, dinner and late-night dining.)

Oh yes, the menu has plenty of delicious ways to continue after the meatballs, too, including a nice butter lettuce and bacon salad with fried capers; a crisp roasted duck with ginger and honey; and excellent pizzas from a wood-burning oven.

The Gastro-Adventure of 2012

Pairing an exciting physical adventure with a great meal is my idea of a good time. And, I didn’t have to go far to find my favorite gastro-adventure this year. No Swiss funiculars involved. No Andean peaks. No raging Canadian rivers.

                          

Instead, I simply hailed a cab in downtown San Francisco, hopped out 15 minutes later at the famous old Cliff House, and set out on the amazing California Coastal Trail. About ten miles in its entirety, the trail wends its way through forests and toney residential neighborhoods, along sheer cliffs, across sandy coves, and up and down steep dunes.

                           

It’s an extraordinary blend of natural landscapes and well-known man-made attractions such the Praesidio, Sutro baths, and Fort Point, a Civil War fort. Much of  this adventure can be called a “stroll,” but anyone looking for a workout won’t be disappointed by the steps running up and down the cliffs, and the 100-plus “stairs” carved into a sand-dune “wall” near Baker Beach. As an added attraction, the shimmering Golden Gate Bridge is almost never out of sight.

On a glorious, sunny autumn day, we walked from Cliff House, past Sutro Baths, darted in and out of the thick forest of Lincoln Park, strolled through the affluent enclave of Sea Cliff, peeking into gates to see the magical mansions set on the edge of the cliffs. We then dropped down to long, sandy China and Baker beaches and walked along the water’s edge, until we climbed back up again on those 100-plus sand “steps.”(Photo from EveryTrail.com which gives an excellent step-by-step guide to this hike.)

                                 

Continuing past the Praesidio, Golden Gate Bridge, Fort Point, Crissy Field, and the Marina Green Park, we finally turned into the residential streets of the Marina neighborhood and found our way to bustling Chestnut Street. Total walking time was about 2 ½ - 3 hours. It's hard to give an exact mileage, because there are many options along the way. Mapquest estimates six miles, several hiking guides say it's closer to 10 miles.

The “gastro” part of the adventure was equally exciting.

                      

Tacolicious was the pot of gold at the end of our ramble. This casual emporium of creative Mexican fare is wildly popular, with crowds clustered at the door and on the sidewalk pretty much any hour of the day. (There are also T-Lishes in the Mission district and Palo Alto.)  

Tacos are the main attraction – each consisting of two griddled tortillas, stuffed enthusiastically with unusual combos of super-fresh, (mostly) locally sourced ingredients.

I loved the fried local rock cod that’s paired with shredded cabbage and tangy cream sauce; the house-made chorizo sausage with succulent potato chunks; and the vegetarian butternut squash number that’s spiked with poblano peppers, red bell peppers, spicy pepitas, and slightly bitter greens. (The above photo, by Michael Macor for the San Francisco Chronicle, shows the asparagus, potato, mushroom and green garlic taco; traditional carnitas; beer-and-shot braised chicken; fried local rock cod.) 

Since we were feeling “fit” (and totally deserving!) after our rousing hike, we also ordered the zesty shot-and-a-beer braised chicken tacos which are miraculously tender, and the braised short rib tacos that can thank guakillo chiles for their spicy, tangy, slightly smoky flavor.  Each taco gets a “custom” dusting of onion, cilantro, cabbage, lettuce, tomato, cheese, or whatever other crunchy bit will add to the fun.

                                 

Though it bills itself as a “cocktail-driven restaurant,” with 120 tequilas begging to be sipped, Tacolicious also offers imaginative alcohol-free concoctions that are ideal lunch accompaniments. (The menu heading is “Drivers, Kids and Recovering Bartenders.”) I love the Mia (cranberry juice, sparkling lemonade and fruit salsa), the Moss (passion fruit, pineapple, and sparkling limeade), and the Silas (lemon, lime and mint). 

For folks not in the mood for tacos (really?), the menu also offers “snacks” that range from a creamy, dreamy guacamole and snappy ceviche with apple and orange bits, to the popular albacore tuna tostada with crispy leeks and chipotle mayo, and  the pork-beef meatballs done with roasted tomato-chipotle salsa and cotija cheese. Then there are the chips 'n salsa. Let's just say I feel sorry for all the people who haven’t burned up a bunch of calories before hitting Tacolicious. They must have to stop after just one basket of the warm, addicting tortilla chips (served with three sensational house-made sauces, hot, medium and mild).  I had to be dragged out of there before I could completely polish off our third basket.

 

                                        

Tacolicious in the Marina is a small place , one long, narrow room with a smattering of tables, an inviting copper-topped bar, and a constant cluster of happy people waiting for a place to sit. We were lucky enough to score one of the tiny tables in the sidewalk enclosure, giving us front-row-center seats to the exuberant party that is Chestnut Street.

 

 

Appetizing Appetizers --- The Best of 2012

Picking your favorite appetizer at Tertulia is kinda like picking your favorite kid. How to choose from the outrageously crispy, smoky, sweet Brussels sprouts tossed with bits of pork belly and garlic; the Tosta Seta, grilled bread slabs with marinated mushrooms, smoked ricotta and toasted pinenuts; the crispy potatoes dusted with Spanish smoked paprika and served with garlicky aioli; the blistered shishito peppers in a blizzard of coarse salt; and the crunchy orbs of Jerusalem artichoke, spritzed with citrus and yogurt, that go by the name Tupinamburas?

                                    

It’s impossible. That’s why each distinctive and delicious tapas at this hip, happening New York City bistro makes this list. (Photo of Tosta Seta by Foodspotting.) 

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A lot of sins are committed every day in the name of the all-American crabcake. But I found two sensational takes on the precious patty in 2012.

At Bouchon in Santa Barbara, the elegant cakes were prepared with lots of first-rate Dungeness crab -- moist, flaky and flavorful -- and little else to steal its thunder. The “garnish” on the plate included fennel puree; a tiny salad of micro-greens, celery and fennel; grapefruit-spritzed aioli; and a silky avocado from Sommer Farms. I managed to get a bit of each component with every heavenly bite.

                                   

At Blue Duck Tavern in Washington, D.C.’s Park Hyatt Hotel, the Jumbo Lump Crabcakes (above, in a photo from Flickr) that I enjoyed last fall cited their pedigree (from Bayou La Batra, AL) on the menu, along with their accessories: Frisée and Fennel, Coral Aioli. But I didn’t need any scorecard to tell me these cakes were the best of the best. Large chunks of juicy, sweet crab gently gathered into a handsome disc and sautéed ‘til the edges were crackly. The cool frisée further tickled the palate. The coral aioli was like a voluptuous splash of lobster bisque.

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Nobody does the popular “shared plates” gig better than Jamonera in Philadelphia. From my first sip of an Alhambra cocktail (Bombay gin, grapefruit puree, rosemary and ginger) and first nibble of Papa Frita, I knew I was in love.

Jamonera’s potato chunks are crispy skinned, fluffy inside. Sprinkled with coarse salt and drizzled with a bracing, wood-smoked garlic aioli, they deliver a rapid-fire volley of flavors and textures. The shiny house-made sherry vinegar hot sauce made the fab fries taste even better. (The photo is from metro.us, a Philly blog with great restaurant recommendations.)

                                    

Later in the tapas parade we ordered eggplant fries, also known as Berenjenas and dipped the crisp batons, miraculously creamy within, into a spunky smoked salmorejo sauce (tomatoes, bread, olive oil and garlic), then captured the little shreds of zamorano cheese (similar to Manchego) and squiggles of truffled honey. At that point we decided that it’s been way too long since our last visit to Spain.

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When I got together with eight discriminating colleagues – critics for Dallas Morning News and Washington Post among them – for dinner at Washington, D.C.’s The Oval Room, we managed to gobble and schmooze our way through almost every appetizer on the extensive and exciting menu.    

                                        
                     

So delicious was the special Truffle Pasta with Shaved Summer Truffle and Toasted Hazelnut that it killed me to take just a small portion and pass it along. Though pale in appearance, the flavors – warm, earthy, sweet and toasty – were emphatic and lingering.

To-Die-For Desserts --- Best of 2012

I wouldn’t normally order dessert after a casual pizza lunch at the counter in Nancy Silverton’s popular Los Angeles eatery, Pizzeria Mozza. But what are you gonna do when the folks sitting smack next to you order a voluptuous Banana Gelato Pie, all foofed up with candied hazelnuts and shiny hot fudge sauce you could smell a block away?  I mean, really, look at this thing. Would you pass it up? (Photos by Yelp.)

                                  

I loved every bite -- the silken ice cream, the intense bittersweet chocolate, the nutty crunch. Then I figured, hey, if one dessert was so good here, maybe we should order another, like maybe the Butterscotch Budino with Maldon Sea Salt and Rosemary Pine Nut Cookies.

                                          

Smooth as buttah, with the smoky caramel soul of dulce de leche, a dollop of whipped cream, and a dusting of crunchy salt. Heavenly.

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Dessert at Jamonera in Philadelphia has the proverbial tough act to follow. We loved everything about a dinner that started with the lip-smacking Alhambra cocktail (Bombay gin, grapefruit puree, rosemary and ginger) and meandered indulgently through a terrific tapas menu. Yet, still, we were blown away by the final showpiece of the evening. (Photo by Foodspotting.)

                                       

The Jamonera Sundae consists of a warm brownie spiked with espelette pepper, creamy nougat ice cream, a crumbled Spanish-peanut-pretzel praline, hot fudge sauce, and a fat, fluffy vanilla bean marshmallow. How do you say “outtasite” in Spanish?

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Too bad that Elvis had left the building when I dined at New York City’s db Bistro Moderne last May. He would surely have flipped over pastry chef Ashley Brauze’s Peanut and Banana Napoleon. I certainly did, fighting my tablemates for every last lick of shiny, sumptuous banana cream, rum-glazed bananas, crackly feuilletine of milk chocolate and peanuts,  and the coup de grace, spiced chocolate ice cream. (Brauze cooked at El Bulli in Spain and Per Se in New York before settling down in the Daniel Boulud empire of haute cuisine.) Her Peanut and Banana Napoleon is one Big Hunk o’ Love.

                        


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Life is uncertain. Eat dessert first. That’s particularly sage advice if you’re talking about the voluptuous Chocolate Bread & Butter Pudding at The Hungry Cat. 

This popular bistro in downtown Santa Barbara serves only this one dessert – a killer concoction of crusty bread cubes, silken ganache, bumpy brulée crust, all baked together in a classic French metal mold. (Photo by AliceQFoodie.)

                                        

The bittersweet chocolate is at the bottom, so the best way to enjoy the pudding is to dip deep with each spoonful and pull up hot chocolate ribbons along with the souffléed bread. The dessert is big enough for two, and digging into the sexy, little charlotte mold, right down to the gooey chocolate on the bottom, is about as much fun as two people can legally have over dessert in a public place.

Fabulous Feasts -- My Favorite Meals of 2012

At the risk of drooling all over my new Apple MacBook Pro's keyboard, I'd like to share with you the best dinners, decadent desserts, appetizing appetizers, and one grand gastro-adventure that I lucked into in 2012. Today, my three favorite dinners.                                        

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The Dutch, Andrew Carmellini’s New American restaurant in Greenwich Village, is the quintessential dining “experience” -- --- the complete package, that magical blend of excitement, comfort, great food and booze that makes us giddy.

The appealing “vibe” hit me the instant we stepped inside the door --- boisterous and high-spirited, with exuberant bartenders doing their thing and an enthusiastic clientele clinking glasses and slurping fresh oysters at the bar devoted to that pastime. In the “back” is a low-ceilinged dining room with white brick, dark wood and a soft glow from chandeliers shining on large tables and cozy booths alike.

                                      

Which of the 19 gins on the bar list would I like in my gin ‘n tonic? Well now, you just know you’re going to have fun when that’s the first salvo of the evening. (I chose the new-to-me Spring 44 from Colorado and loved it).

As a lover of bourbon too, I would happily have spent the evening exploring the rest of the bar list, which features more than 50 interesting whiskies. But calmer minds prevailed and I was soon equally  entranced by the Snack list that proposed Eggplant Dip with Crackers, Beer-Steamed Clams and Little Oyster Sandwiches among other things. (Photo by Esquire.) If I had to reduce 2012 to just one, to-die-for Snack, this beautifully battered nubbin of oyster, perched on a seeded bun would be it.

                                      

The groans of pleasure had barely subsided when along came a dazzling bunch of “Jersey Asparagus,” steamed bright and topped with sautéed mushrooms and one perfect fried egg; and a flavorful pork chop (which is usually an oxymoron) snatched from a spunky adobo marinade, grilled to perfection, and served with cheesey grits and wax beans.

Other winners along the way to the insanely delicious Curry Sugar Donuts finale: Spring salad with old-fashioned buttermilk dressing, and a smoky roasted chicken with chickpeas, spiced yogurt and tamarind “flair” that would make Jennifer Aniston weep.

Yes, the donuts. Poufy, crackly with sugar, and served with butterscotch pudding and cashew brittle. In a word: Wow.

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When dinner starts with the best tuna tartare you’ve ever tasted (and you’ve eaten your weight in tuna tartare many times over!)  you know you’re in for one pretty fabulous dinner. Well, “pretty fabulous” doesn’t even do justice to the dinner I enjoyed at Vernick Food & Drink in Philadelphia.

                                   

After the luminous bits of tuna the texture of cooked rice, judiciously moistened with sesame oil and a touch of herbs, came grilled sourdough topped with a mint-flecked green pea puree and wispy lardons of house-cured, crisp bacon; and sensational shishito peppers, char-blistered, dusted with coarse salt, and teamed with impossibly crisp roasted potatoes (pictured above). By the time the crisp-edged, fork-tender pork blade steak main course arrived, with its bitter mustard greens and sweet-tart red onion marmalade, I was totally in love with Vernick Food & Drink.

Open only since last Spring, Vernick is home to Greg Vernick, the accomplished chef who opened a slew of restaurants around the world for Jean-Georges Vongerichten before returning “home” to his own place.  The restaurant, located just off Rittenhouse Square, is a two-story townhouse, with a sleek downstairs bar, an airy upstairs dining room with large windows opening onto a balcony, and a spacious kitchen area with counter and table seating.

                                          

The menu is small. The flavors are huge. Wood-roasted carrots, tossed into a salad with cornichons and an olive-flecked dressing, tasted like they had been yanked from the garden just hours before. Grilled hearts of romaine were delicious in a pas de deux with figs.  And ravioli, crafted of delicate dough and creamy mashed potatoes, and topped with braised lamb and buttery breadcrumbs, were terrific. A luscious Butterscotch & Smoked Chocolate Parfait -- with shortbread and pecans -- showed how the kitchen’s rousing creativity is firmly grounded in the classics.

Great food, good looks, a flexible, reasonably priced menu, professional service, and a low-key but unusually hospitable ambiance. No calculator needed to know it all adds up to one of the best meals of 2012.

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No calculator needed to know that flour plus water equals pasta either. But Flour + Water in the hands of rising-star chef Thomas McNaughton results in something that transcends regular pasta. We’re talking gossamer packages in fanciful shapes –agnolotti, triangoli, caramelle, garganelli, bucatini, strozzapreti that are teamed with imaginative, robustly flavored sauces. (Photo by Brian Smeets, from GrubStreet.com.)

                               


The concept at Flour + Water, one of San Francisco’s most buzzworthy restaurants, is so simple. There are just four appetizers, four pizzas, seven pasta creations, and two “secondi” (main courses) on the little brown paper menus printed in old-fashioned typewriter font.

The restaurant décor is simple, too. A long, narrow storefront on the corner of 20^th and Harrison in a residential section of the Mission.  No frills, but an attractive bar area, exposed beams, contemporary artwork, and a partially open kitchen that allows a peek at the wood-burning pizza oven which, I’m told, cooks a pizza in two minutes at something like 800 degrees. (Photo by Concierge.)

                                          


But there is nothing at all simple about McNaughton’s talent, style or passion for tweaking great food traditions. (He is on the James Beard Awards ballot in the Rising Star category.

I was captivated from the very first bite of tuna conserva with artichokes and impossibly airy battered and fried cardoons. Crispy pork trotter with shaved asparagus, pine nuts and pickled green garlic was equally impressive.

But then came the tour de force, a parade of six pasta dishes that awed, fascinated, mesmerized, and dazzled. There was maltagliati with porcini mushrooms, green garlic and nettles. Elegant little raviolini filled with braised lamb and strewn with pea shoots and fresh mint.  Fat, chewy bucatini with peas, tesa (a type of pancetta) and an egg. Twisty strozzapreti tinted green with spinach and tossed with whey-braised pork and ramps, the wild leeks that only hang around for a few weeks each spring. Precious caramelle filled with ricotta cheese and asparagus and bathed in brown butter and chile flakes. Each dish was my favorite…until the next amazing creation came.

Clearly, we couldn’t call it quits until we had tried one of the handsome Neapolitan-style pizzas that went whizzing by us all night long.  The pork sausage pie with tomato, capers, chile flakes and caciocavallo cheese was sensational – thin, light, airy, with a charred rim and crackly crust.

Just when I thought this meal couldn’t possibly be improved upon, along came the chocolate budino – an Italian pudding with a shiny, ganache-like texture – that was topped with espresso caramel cream and a sprinkling of coarse salt.

Let’s call it the New Math. Flour + Water = one of my favorite meals ever.

The Best-Dressed Beef Tenderloin

A couple weeks ago I wrote about the impressive way San Francisco chef Gary Danko wraps a loin of meat or a filet of fish in a delicate “crust.” Sometimes the crust is minced herbs, sometimes it’s crushed hazelnuts or pistachios, sometimes fragrant juniper berries or tangy horseradish. The contrast between the coating of crunch and the juicy, scarlet-hearted meat is stunning.

                            


Danko was willing to share a recipe with me. Here’s his Roasted Beef Tenderloin with Orange-Juniper Crust. Chef Danko normally makes the dish with bison, but I doubt that I have a lot of readers game for that adventure. The filet is served with creamed porcini mushrooms, caramelized baby onions and handmade spätzle. If you don’t have time for the whole production, I’d suggest pairing the filet with buttery mashed potatoes and calling it a huge success.

Roast Loin of Bison with Porcini Mushrooms, Cioppolini Onions and Herb Spätzle

Serves 6

3 pounds of bison loin or beef tenderloin, cleaned of all fat and connective tissue and tied every inch with butchers twine

1 quart beef stock, reduced to 1 cup

For the Orange-Juniper Crust

 2 teaspoons grated orange rind

¼ teaspoon fresh thyme leaves, chopped

¼ teaspoon rosemary

¼ teaspoon chopped sage

½ cup chopped Italian parsley

1 teaspoon juniper berries

1 teaspoon chopped garlic

Prepare orange-juniper crust by blending all ingredients in a small bowl. This may be done ahead of time. Prepare beef tenderloin and tie every inch with butchers twine. Pat orange crust onto the surface of the meat. Let rest, refrigerated, for at least 2 hours.

To roast, place loin on a sheet pan fitted with a rack. Roast in a 350 degree oven until rare for 20 to 30 minutes or until 125 degrees on an instant read meat thermometer. Remove from oven, cover with foil and let rest for 15 minutes. Remove the twine, lightly salt the surface of the meat and slice thinly. Arrange on plate or platter with the heated mushrooms, Cioppolini onions and herb Spätzle. Bring beef stock to a boil, season to taste with salt and pepper and spoon over the meat. Serve.

Herb Spätzle

3/4 pound all purpose flour

1/4 teaspoon nutmeg

2 teaspoons salt

3 eggs

1/2 cup milk

1/2 cup water

1/2 pound spinach, blanched in boiling water for 30 seconds, cooled, and wrung out in paper towels

1 tablespoon minced chives

1 tablespoon minced parsley

1 teaspoon minced tarragon

 In a bowl combine the flour, nutmeg and salt. In an electric blender combine the blanched spinach, chives, parsley, tarragon and water and puree until smooth, add the eggs and milk. Whisk into the flour mixture until you achieve a thick sticky paste. Bring a large pot of water to a boil. Force the paste through a sieve into the boiling water. Allow the Spätzle to float to the top. Remove from water and cool in cold water. Do in small batches. Drain, coat with a small amount of oil and keep cold until needed.

To reheat, combine 2 tablespoons butter, 4 tablespoons water and 1 tablespoon of heavy cream in a small saucepan. Bring to a boil, season with salt and add Spätzle.   Return to boil and simmer until hot. You may hold it in the oven for a few minutes. The Spätzle should absorb the liquid and should be still be separate. If too dry, add more liquid; if too wet, drain before serving.

Caramelized Cioppolini onions

1 pound Cioppolini onions, peeled, leaving the root end trimmed but still attached

1 tablespoon butter

¼ cup white wine

1 tablespoon Balsamic vinegar

1 cup chicken stock

Salt to taste

In a sauté pan large enough to hold the onions in a single layer, melt butter. Place onions in the pan and cook over medium heat until they start to turn golden brow, be careful not to burn them. Shake the pan often, tossing the onions around. Deglaze with white wine and balsamic vinegar and reduce to a glaze.  Add chicken stock and pinch of salt and simmer until rich brown and tender. Onions should remain whole. Set aside and gently reheat when needed.

Porcini Mushrooms

1 pound porcini or shiitake mushrooms, cleaned or any dirt and cut into smaller pieces

2 tablespoons butter

1 teaspoon grated garlic

2 tablespoons Italian parsley

2 tablespoons heavy cream

Salt to taste

Melt 1 tablespoon butter in sauté pan. Add mushrooms and sauté until all the liquids have concentrated. In the center of the pan melt the remaining butter, quickly stir the garlic and parsley into the melted butter and then mix in all the mushrooms. Be careful to not burn the garlic. Stir in the cream and reduce to a thickness that will just cling to the mushrooms. Salt to taste. Reserve and gently reheat when needed.