Posts from — November 2009

Rose Petal-Infused Aloe Vera Jelly

To dovetail means “to join together harmoniously,” and harmonious is certainly a most appropriate adjective to describe the delicate flavors experienced at this cosy French-inspired New American UWS enclave. From the Brussel Sprouts Leaves with Cauliflower, Manchego, and Serrano Ham to the Salt Baked Onion with Perigord Truffles and Hazlenuts, course after course excited, refreshed, and most importantly, delighted the taste buds. All-in-all, exactly the sort of outcome one would wish for in an unexpected Sunday evening dinner invitation.   

Again and again I am pleasantly surprised by the depth and breadth of the New York restaurant scene. Seemingly every other block is home to the sort of restaurant that would be the talk of the town in any other city, but what I’ve been wondering is, who pays for it all? While places like Morimoto, MASA, and Momofuku Ko have star power such that $85+ tasting menus do not seem out of place, are there really enough serious (and well-off) foodies in NYC that a relatively lesser-known (but in my opinion equally excellent) haute cuisine restaurants like Dovetail and Aldea can survive? 

Chef John Fraser’s reaction to the phone call I placed announcing that my companion and I had both become slightly ill following our meal suggests that competition is cuthroat indeed. Profuse apologies were made, credit card charges reversed, and an open invitation for a complimentary follow-up dinner was issued. Although I was not looking for a refund whatsoever, enjoyed the food very much, and had only called up as a warning in case any other diners had been affected, this swift and sincere action really impressed me. As a friend of mine like to say, “most of the time people just want to feel like they are being taken seriously.” As much as I have seen this principle neglected across a wide spectrum of restaurants, an important thing to remember is that at heart this is a business based on service.

For the sort of great treatment that shouldn’t be so unusual, try a Sunday Suppa on the Upper West Side.

Details: 103 W 77th St (at Columbus) New York, NY 10024-6909 (+1-212-362-3800)

Turkey Dinner

Although I am not an American by nationality, I have spent a great portion of my adult life in the US. Out of all the opportunities for cultural assimilation, celebrating Thanksgiving is by far my favorite. I love it that families drop everything, gather, and reflect on the things they are grateful for. And besides, what better holiday for a foodie to favor than one that is entirely centered around the cooking and eating of an outrageously enormous meal?

While most of us are far away from blood relatives, the expat community in London is a family unto itelf, and the mother of us all is my friend Vicky, who this year generously volunteered her time and her home for a truly massive undertaking: Thanksgiving for Thirty! Despite space and facilities constraints, in true “shabby chic” fashion, we made it work. Extra tables were aquired from the hotel down the road through the charming persistance of the lovely Kate, seating was on a BYO basis, and a dearth of oven space forced us to farm out baking and roasting duties all over South Kensington. In the end, somehow not one but two turkeys were carved, kosher and regular gravy was offered, and despite buffet-style service, the food that eventually ended up on my plate not only had all the traditional trappings, but was also hot. Amidst toasts and cheers, the steady sounds of cutting and chewing were a direct reflection of the enjoyment of a polyglot bunch comprised of English, French, Canadian, Dutch, South African, Singaporean, and of course Americans.

Too cook is to show love and to eat is to appreciate. Dearest Vicky, thank you for loving us. We really appreciate it.

Colchester Native Oysters

Have you ever seen such enormous oysters in your life?!?

A trio of these exhuberantly briny beauties supplied heart-stoppingly fresh from creeks around Mersea Island in Essex by Richard Haward and family, was enough for me to have a full meal and to make me promise myself never to eat anemic, questionably refrigerated restaurant oysters ever again.

Special thanks to my friend Ian for expertly initiating me in the sacred ritual of Borough Marketing.

Details: Borough Market, 8 Southwark St London, SE1 1TL, United Kingdom (+44207407 1002)

Oxtail and Kidney Pudding

The capacity for single-minded obsession is something that has always been a potentially unhealthy character trait of mine.  I am the sort of person who offhandedly tries Tropical Wholefoods Chewy Banana Chips, falls madly, violently in love, buys a 2 kilo bag online, and eats them breakfast, lunch, and dinner to the exclusion of all other foods until I’ve literally made myself ill.

Similarly, when I see a list like Trifter’s “Top Ten Places to See Before You Die,” I feel deeply anxious that I’ve thus far seen only two of the recommended sights (Stonehenge and Iceland), and highly incentivized to make plans to check off the rest of the list. However, despite my urges, it is precisely this “checklist,” trophy-hunting” mentality that I so deplore about the culture of restaurant and city guides.  Often the best way to experience a new city is to go on a food crawl- actually stroll through the streets to discover the highlights of local cuisine; when one is ruled by Lonely Planet’s ”Food and Dining” section, the delights of spontaneous discovery are few and far between.

Yet, when something like the Guardian’s ”50 Best Things to Eat in the World“ explodes out of my inbox, I must admit that no matter how much I complain, it’s hard to resist a good list. Given an upcoming trip to the UK and a recent encounter with an autograph pen, a cookbook, and Heston Blumenthal, I zeroed in on #44, steak and kidney pie at  The Hind’s Head pub in Bray. With great anticipation, I reserved my Zipcar, primed Google Maps for Blackberry, and kept calling until the staff took pity on this adventure gastronomer and gave up a table on the early side. Leaving the parallel parking to my companion, I entered ready to embrace ecstasy and was far from disappointed.

Devils on Horseback (roasted, bacon-wrapped prunes), Scotch Quail Eggs (hard-boiled eggs wrapped in sausage and deep fried in bread crumbs) , and Warwickshire Wizzers (sausages made of pork, chilli, mustard seeds and paprika), here was British pub food refined to the highest degree imaginable- everything rich, flavorful, and served expertly in portions slightly too small to be considered appetizers, just right for labelling as ”snack.” Then there were the Triple Cooked Chips (steamed, chilled, shallow fried, re-chilled, and finally deep-fried), magnificently crispy outside, impossibly fluffy inside.

And finally, there was the pie. As the still-quivering mound was set before me and the gravy poured, I took a bracing swig of water. Cautiously, I drew the knife along the moist membrane of pastry, yielding a seductive glimpse of the cavernous depths below. More boldly, I cut decisively down, eviscerating this defenseless prey until I reached plate. Steaming and oozing, the pie revealed her treasures; kidney, and marvelously, instead of traditional beef, rich, slow-cooked oxtail. With barely contained lust I plunged my fork into what bore remarkable resemblance to live entrails. Bringing the laden utensil swiftly between my lips, I closed my eyes in concentration and thought, ”Oh!” The pastry was pliant, with just the right amount of chewiness, oxtail (my favorite cut of meat) was perfect in combination with kidney, and still, the deep, primal flavor of the dish was somewhat lost on me. Indeed, I am quite disappointed and rather ashamed to have realized: I’m just not that into offal.

Details: High St, Bray, UK SL6 2AB (+441628626151)

Tête de Moine

Although I’ve become accustomed to living (in my father’s words) as a “gipsy” of late, every so often I have an experience that highlights the delights of stability. This weekend my friend Charlotte’s family was kind enough not only to allow this wandererer to store some belongings in their garage, but also to put on a spectacular lunch. After a circuitous journey involving much Google-mapping while driving, it was a famished foodie who finally made it to this charming countryside abode. Upon being ushered into a plush sitting room, my attention was immediately captured by the strange contraption being employed to turn out enchantingly delicate cheese flowers shaved off a circular block of cheese that I later learned is called “Tête de Moine.” Indeed, the symbiotic relationship between the device, a Girolle, and the cheese, made by only 10 dairies in the Jura region of Switzlerland, is so complete that the former really should never be purchased without the latter. Happily, due to the glories of globalization, a complete set can be purchased online for around $120. When I have somewhere to put four pounds of cheese, I will order one for myself immediately. Until that day, I shall be content to gift.

Grilled Beef Tongue

If I were forced to eat only on type of cuisine for the rest of my life it would be Japanese. You see, hidden beneath the umbrella term lies a breathtaking variety of ingredients and styles of preparation. There is of course the widely available sushi and sashimi, but then there is shabu shabu, teppanyaki, and yakitori, not to mention all manner of rice dishes and noodle dishes.

At Asakusa, all these choices and more were encapsulated on a menu that was as affordable as it was extensive. From gyoza to pork cutlet, each dish arrived perfectly prepared and was presented with elegant simplicity. Smiles from numerous Japanese diners around the room confirmed what I had suspected from the moment I entered this North London hole-in-the-wall;  here was a bonafide hidden gem.  

Special thanks to my friend Dai for yet another amazing adventure.

Details: 265 Eversholt Street, Camden, NW1 1BA (+442073888533)

Seafood Medley (Poached Sea Bass and a Lobster Tail with Cioppino Seafood Sauce and Steamed Asparagus)

A friend recently made the amusing quip, “happiness is turning left when boarding an airplane.” If we disregard economics, I don’t think anyone would disagree. Certainly, when I was miraculously upgraded from economy to first class on a completely oversold flight to London I did not protest too much! I usually go right to sleep on trans-Atlantic red-eyes because I have to hit the ground running on the other side, but opportunity to evaluate a whole new genre of food was too tempting to pass up. Humbled as I am by my discovery of the incredibly comprehensive crowd-sourced site AirlineMeals.net, I shall nevertheless strive to add a little insight.  

Sadly, neither the Hot Appetizer Cart nor the Seafood Medley touted on the oversize menu card lived up to expectations. Although I’m sure celebrity Chef Paul Minnillo of The Baricelli Inn had the best of intentions, not even the steam oven so proudly described to me by the steward was able to compensate for the blandness of the seabass and the rubberiness of the lobster. Perhaps I’ve been spoiled by a lifetime of flying on great international airlines, but fellow Singaporean readers, please correct me if I am wrong in stating that generally even economy class meals on Singapore Airlines are far superior to food offered in any other class of travel on most other carriers. I understand that overhead costs are probably higher in the US, which naturally should impact quality, but then why fail to execute the overly ambitious when one could easily do quite well within certain constraints? 

To the airline menu planners of the world, consider this:  Today’s average airline traveller is a person feeling just a little persecuted. From the sigh of the impatient cabbie who rues having to help with the luggage to the outright hostility of the security officer’s stare when the metal detector goes off, myriad tiny stresses accumulate to put one into a highly strung state ripe to be remedied by comfort foods. It is a simple physical reality that many “luxury” foods like lobster do not travel well. Why not therefore experiment with  ”low brow” items like generous burgers and satisfying philly cheesesteaks that are more easily prepared and thus more likely to succeed? 

I won’t hold my breath for a mile high dining revolution, but I have taken note of the Auntie Annie’s cinnamon sugar pretzels available at Terminal C of Newark Liberty International Airport.

Details: Continental Airlines Business First International Inflight Service

Cinnamon Sugar Pretzel

Soft, sweet, and warm- everything comfort food should be.

Details: Terminal C, Newark Liberty International Airport Newark, NJ 07114

Hi readers,

Introducing Your Humble Guestblogger

Really Good Food’s resident gourmand Ming has kindly invited this ill-qualified sojourner through the fine dining universe to blog for a week.

Why? Who knows.

When Ming and I were at college together, I often raved about tiny ghetto takeaway pizza joints in the North End (Ernesto’s!) that hardly contributed to my foodie cred.

Maybe it’s ‘cos I happen to be from Singapore, which the late Johnny Apple considered to be “one of the most food-mad cities in an ever more food-mad world”.

Or maybe it’s ‘cos I was about to embark on a weeklong expedition through British dining that included seven Michelin stars and establishments with centuries of cumulative commitment to food & drink.

But really I’m just one of you, a fascinated passersby on Ming’s amazing website- a place where food takes centre stage and we the audience devour content with rapt attention.

Food Really Is.. uh The Food of Love

So, I decided I would blog anonymously. I thought for a long time about my pseudonym, tossing around puns on both food (Crème Bruni? Too effete.) and foodies (Frank Bruiser? Too butch.)

After some time, I decided that what I loved most about fine dining was the opportunity to share new experiences with people you care about. After all, what is an experience – culinary or otherwise – without company on the journey?

With that in mind, Really Good Food will be hosting a week of ruminations by RGFriend. A nickname which both characterizes my relationship with the fine hostess of this website and exemplifies what I think is the most important part of any great meal.

Coming Up Next: Raymond Blanc’s Le Manoir

As I eat my way through a shortlist (way-too-short list!) of restaurants in England and Scotland, I hope you enjoy the posts. If you have eaten at the same restaurants, I’d love to hear your thoughts. And if you like the photos, all credit to the very talented and beautiful Mrs. RGFriend.

Back with the first review soon: Raymond Blanc’s two-Michelin-starred restaurant, Le Manoir.

Given its illustrious history and the fact that we would be visiting on its 25th anniversary, Mrs. RGFriend and I thought it appropriate to kick off our culinary crusade at what many consider to be an institution in the British dining landscape.

Oxfordshire, here we come!

Tiradito Ceviche (Flounder, Aji Amarillo, Sweet potato, Red onions, Cilantro, Maiz Cancha)

I haven’t actually run the numbers, but I’d say it’s a safe bet that NYC’s West Village must have one of the highest ratios of restaurants to residents in the world. Given the high availability of substitutes, it is therefore even more impressive when a restaurant in this area manages to distinguish itself. If I am going to visit a “trendy” restaurant, I usually try to do so earlier in the week when business is likely to be a little slower. This mostly helps to avoid the pitfalls of bad service from rushed waiters and sub-par food from an over-extended kitchen. I book a restaurant via Opentable, the next day a survey appears in my inbox inviting me to rate various aspects of the dining experience, one of which is noise level. On this particular Tuesday night, Yerba Buena Perry was packed and the noise level was definitively energetic. In such circumstances I always request a corner table, allowing me to sit next to rather than across from my dining companion so that my dinner conversation doesn’t have to be projected in a series of yells. While I was delighted to have been accomodated, I wonder how different the dining experience would have been had this not been the case?

Menu-wise, YBP shares many similarities with Sushi Samba, including a personal favorite, oversize kernels of Peruvian corn. Atmosphere-wise however, this intimate Latin hotspot wins hands down. Small, decorated in dark wood and plush fabrics, and with a lethal cocktail list featuring such exotic offerings as the Mezcal Maid (Scorpion Mezcal + Cucumbers + Lime + Yerbabuena), it is little wonder that the beautiful people have been coming in droves. Yet, appearance without substance does not restaurant longevity make, and happily YBP does not fall into this trap. Dishes like the Watermelon Fries with Yerba Mate Ketchup are deliciously unusual, and the Coffee Glazed Pork Belly Arepas with Cabbage Slaw pose a serious threat to Momofuku Ssäm Bar’s Steamed Buns with Pork Belly.

Special thanks to my friend Max for the terrific recommendation. To satisfy a taste for Cuba without the risk of jail time, scurry down for some small plates.

Details: 1 Perry St (at Greenwich Ave) New York, NY 10014 (+1-212-620-0808)