Sunday, August 9, 2009

The Gastro Pub Redux

Holeman and Finch
2277 Peachtree Road
Suite B
Atlanta, GA 30309
www.holeman-finch.com

If you have been following this blog, you know that I started with a review of a gastro pub in Southern California. Hopefully most, if not all of you, have had the chance to experience a gastro pub in your area. Assuming that by reading this blog you are a fan of food, a good gastro pub provides a food centric experience that pushes the boundaries of tradition and is sure to ignite your senses and appeal to the very being of your “foodieness”. Such was the experience at Holeman and Finch in Atlanta, Georgia.

Located on the northern cusp of the trendy midtown district, Holeman and Finch is the product of the collaboration of James Beard Nominated Best Chef Linton Hopkins and several partners. Set back from the street in a multi-use office building, the most immediately striking features were the floor to ceiling glass cellars housing various charcuterie meats and wines. Moving further into the restaurant, I was immediately struck by the size… small (think typical New York bar or pub). Though tight, the space maintains a highly functional atmosphere, despite catching the occasional hip or elbow. The décor is rustic meets modern. Warm earth tones and dark stained plank floors abut a pounded sheet metal bar and trendy aluminum chairs. Lighting is courtesy of retro styled light bulbs featuring oversized filaments ala 1930’s. Overall the décor serves as a good juxtaposition for the food, setting the tone for the artful interpretation that will greet the diner with every dish.

Quickly perusing the cocktail menu, I decided to trust the establishment and order a Bartender’s choice… I was not disappointed. Being a full fledged groupie of the ever expanding Mixology movement, I was delighted at the arrival of my drink; a concoction of rye whisky, Antica Formula, Angestore Bitters and Averna. Smooth and mouth coating, with hints of dark wood and subtle vanilla and a whisp of sweetness, the drink was a challenging, yet rewarding, beginning to my meal. After indulging in several sips of my libation, I moved my attention to the main attraction and felt my heart skip a beat. Separated into several sections, the menu sports themes such as Plates, Farm, Sweets, and... PARTS!!!! Constantly garnering quips and remarks from my friends for ordering the weirdest things on any menu, I was immediately drawn to the section reflecting offal from various farm animals…

“We’ll take one of everything from this section of the menu.” And so began our meal.

In addition to the offal, we ordered fried oysters, Atlantic sardines, and a watermelon salad. It was these dishes that arrived first. Battered in cornmeal and set atop a slightly overpowering mustard remoulade, the oysters were succulent and soft but otherwise unremarkable. One of those dishes that if you have had once in the south, you’ve had a million times. The sardines were lightly fried and paired with a lemon-garlic aioli. Light and fluffy, the sardines had a perfectly fishy flavor that was surprisingly subtle and paired splendidly with the slight sweetness of the aioli. Word of warning to those thinking they will try sardines the next time they see them on a menu: Bones, lots and lots of tiny bones. Next was the watermelon salad. This plate was an incredible display of bright ruby red, tangerine orange, and golden yellow. Tossed in lime juice and topped with clabbered cream, the salad was a plate of layered flavors with the sweetness of the watermelon, tartness of the lime, and soothing richness of the cream playing off one another with surprising complexity.

Next up was a trio of offal including veal sweetbreads, veal brain, and pork belly. With more and more chefs trying their hand at sweetbreads, I find myself greeted by these curious items with more frequency in my culinary adventures. The problem with the commercialization of an item such as sweetbreads is that chefs typically tend to bastardize their unique rustic flavor for a more neutral tone that is more easily accepted by the masses. Not so at Holeman and Finch. The sweetbreads we were presented with sat atop a bed of black eyed peas that were cooked to a perfectly al dente texture. The crunch of the black eyed peas served as the perfect complement to the soft and creamy texture of the sweetbreads. Additionally, the peas accentuated the flavor of the sweetbreads, which were reminiscent of a barn with very earthy animal notes and hints of hay. The brains were of a similar texture to the sweetbreads but with a slightly crunchy crust of breading on the outside. Served in a mini cast-iron skillet, the brains were a throwback to my childhood when my German born mother made the same dish. The pork belly was the last of the trio and was a beautiful dish. Fatty and succulent, with a wonderful crunchy layer of skin, the pork belly was served in a bun with chowchow in a somewhat Asian presentation (think Momofuku in NYC). Unfortunately, the chowchow, a relish made from mixed vegetables, was a bit overbearing and hid the full richness of the meat. They would be better off halving the chowchow and letting the meat shine through in its full and utterly wonderful glory.

After a quick intermission in which I finally sampled the bread, a crunchy crusted, chewy centered sourdough that continued the excellence I had experienced thus far, our final trio of dishes arrived; bacon and Johnny cake, marrow bones, and veal fries. Now I realize at this point a bacon and Johnny cake dish seems a bit out of place with the rest of the offal dishes, but this dish was definitely one of the stars of the evening. Focused around a thick cut piece of bacon set atop a cornmeal Johnny cake, the dish was finished off with a perfectly poached egg set atop the stack. Diners also have the option to add a piece of seared foie gras to the dish, which we did of course! Though it is completely unnecessary to go into further explanation than the list of ingredients I just gave, I will. The bacon had an incredibly smoky flavor that can only be the result either of truly smoking the meat or adding liquid smoke, either way it was delicious. The Johnny cake served as the perfect back drop for the bacon, soaking up the juices as they seeped out of the fatty meat. The egg, once broken, added a smooth and coating texture to the dish that served to elevate the level of indulgence to ethereal. The foie gras was a completely unnecessary indulgence, but heavenly all the same! Following this dish was a tough feat but the marrow bones were another source of surprise. Whereas this dish is usually served as a collection of bones cut crosswise to roughly and on to one and a half inches thick, Holeman and Finch’s version consisted of one bone cut lengthwise to expose a gloriously long strip of marrow. Soft and juicy with a salty crust, the marrow was a pleasurable dish but lacking in any remarkable component other than the presentation.

The final dish was by far the most memorable of the night. Presented with the somewhat innocuous name of ‘Veal Fries’, my first inclination that something was awry with the dish was the texture; firm yet lacking of any sinew or other elements fundamental to a meat. My confusion progressed until I finally flagged my waitress and presented my skepticism. With slight hesitation she professed that the dish was in fact veal testicles, so named to encourage otherwise leery diners to try them. Go ahead; read that last sentence again, yes you got it right the first time… I said testicles!! While I can imagine some of you might be fighting back a slight queasiness right now, I on the other hand was overjoyed. Having wanted for some time to try ‘Rocky Mountain Oysters’, I was finally able to fulfill my desire to sample this elusive dish! Having already made my way through the first dish by the time I learned the true ingredients, I ordered a second. As I mentioned above, the texture was smooth and firm, almost bready, similar to the brain. Served with a mixture of lemon, lime, and grapefruit, the flavor was a bit hidden by the citrus but the experience was so unique and enlightening that I simply could not find too much fault with the dish.

As you have probably surmised by now, I am a believer in Holeman and Finch. Always a fan of any establishment that seeks to elevate the dining experience, pushing people out of their comfort zone, and challenging their preconceived notions of food; Holeman and Finch embodies just such a place. I encourage anyone either living in, or passing through, Atlanta to make this a destination and to do so with an open mind and adventurous spirit.

Friday, May 29, 2009

The Pizza Parlor

Pizzeria Bianco
623 E Adams St.
Phoenix, AZ. 85004
www.pizzeriabianco.com

The first time Pizzeria Bianco landed on my radar was via the pages of Bon Appetite magazine’s feature article “United Plates of America”, a state by state commentary on the best places to eat in America. With an upcoming to trip to Phoenix, I sought confirmation through additional research and quickly realized I could not pass up an opportunity to dine at an establishment with accolades from the likes of Martha Stewart and other accomplished reviewers. Brimming with the anticipation of experiencing such a highly reviewed establishment, I was balanced with moderately skeptical curiosity in that I don’t usually view pizza as a medium for an exceptional dining and flavor experience. Mistake number one.

Closed on Mondays, I figured 6:30pm on a Tuesday would be a good time to sneak a quick visit and hopefully score a little extra attention from a less than fully exerted chef. Mistake number two.

After searching twenty plus minutes for Adams Street, I finally discovered it as an inactive street--pedestrian thoroughfare -- in what appeared to be a “parkish” section of ASU’s four square block (or so) downtown campus. As we approached, I got my first inkling of what I will call the Pizzeria Bianco experience (I’m sure you will have no trouble defining this for yourself by the end of this posting), people waiting… lots of them. In light of this development, I hurriedly located the hostess inside the crowded dining room and asked for her best estimate to seat a party of two, 2.5 -3 hours…. Damn.

With shock and disbelief in my heart, I found my guest for the evening and relayed the news. Not wanting to give up on experiencing such a highly acclaimed meal, we decided to stick around for a few drinks and see if the hostess was an exaggerator. At this point, I finally took the time to look around and take in my surroundings. As mentioned above, the restaurant is located in a small park type setting and is comprised of several buildings. The dining room is inside a long and narrow rustic style building reminiscent of the old western towns you see on TBS movie reruns. With only twelve tables and a six person bar, the main feature of the building is the brick wood burning oven. Beautiful. With the oven opening facing the door, one can see the pizzas set next to a small stack of burning firewood, smoke swirling in a thick layer along the roof, as if channeling the rustic sensibility of the restaurant into the pies.

Because the dining room is so confined, there is little room to service the many guests patiently awaiting their turn, and trust me, patience is a virtue each and every guest must possess. Pizzeria Bianco solves this dilemma by placing the bar in a building adjacent to the dining room. Reminiscent of an old prairie cottage, the bar exudes the same rustic vibe as the dining building. In addition to the rustic nature of the physical architecture, each building is bordered by a garden of herbs contributing to the “Little House on the Prairie” feel. Between the two buildings is a long communal style picnic table made of hefty raw wood as well as several benches and other areas to await your time to dine. The result is a communal atmosphere where guests mingle and swap stories while enjoying a bottle… or two.

After enjoying a bottle of wine and several other beverages, I finally experienced the euphoria associated with the hostesses approaching the table and calling my name. This is where the real experience of Pizzeria Bianco, the food, began. Starting with the Antipasto-- a wood fired mixture of sugar snap peas, potatoes, tomatoes, mushrooms, lightly brushed with olive oil and accompanied by mozzarella and sopresatta-- it quickly became clear that less is more and ingredients are king. The flavors were wonderful; particularly the mushrooms which exuded a woody, earthy, slightly musty flavor that was accentuated by the olive oil. In addition to the Antipasto, I also started with the tomato and mozzarella salad. Again a simple dish, this was the most unremarkable dish of the evening. Though not bad, the dish lacked a wow factor with tomatoes that were of the typical ‘hot house’ or ‘vine ripened’ variety one might find at any farmers market and mozzarella that was good, but not special.

Next up? The ‘Belle of the Ball’… Pizza. I couldn’t help but order the famed ROSA pizza; Red Onion, Parmegiano Reggiano, Rosemary, and AZ Pistachios set atop the most perfect crust I have ever tasted in artisanal pizza. Infused with a slight smoky flavor from the oven, the crust represents the perfect balance between chewy and crunchy; with slightly burnt bubbles offering a delicately charred characteristic that served as the backdrop for the toppings. In the case of the Rosa, the taste is a mixture of sour pungence from the Red Onions and salty bitterness from the Parmegiano and Pistachio. The end result is a taste that challenges the taste buds, forcing them to alertness and causing them to truly analyze every morsel of the delicious pie that passes my lips, searching to separate the explosion of flavors into their separate components, while still appreciating the whole. A truly wonderful experience.

My dinner partner opted for the Wiseguy. A combination of Wood Roasted Onion, House Smoked Mozzarella, and Fennel Sausage set atop the same crust, the Wiseguy served as the medium for the biggest surprise of the evening (excepting of course the wait time); the Fennel Sausage. Having been raised by a father as devoted to sausage on his pizza as the Pope is to Catholicism, I have always held a certain contemptuous place in my heart for this flavor profile. The sausage at Bianco, however, was a consternation of my taste buds. With an ever so slight sweetness accentuated by the licorice of the fennel, the sausage was like finding a twenty dollar bill in your pants pocket; unexpected yet totally appreciated. The smoky component of the crust, paired with the Smoked Mozzarella and Wood Roasted Onion, laid a foundation of richly layered flavors that smoothly built upon one another until finally reaching a crescendo at the sausage. Another truly wonderful gastronomic experience.

Thus concluded the unexpected journey of dining at Pizzeria Bianco, total time: 4.5hrs. Though certainly not the experience I expected, I certainly would not have changed any aspect of the evening; from the mounting-- and mounting, and mounting-- anticipation of the hostess’ call, to the simplicity of the food, to the unexpected eye openers, it was a meal born of a mind tirelessly dedicated to coaxing the inherent flavors from only the finest ingredients. To those who might be off put by the wait time, don’t be. Go with friends, make an evening of it, and enjoy the experience that is Pizzeria Bianco.

Sunday, April 19, 2009

The Celebrity Chef Outpost

Craft
3376 Peachtree Rd.
Atlanta, GA. 30326
http://www.craftrestaurant.com/

By now most of you have seen Bravo! TV’s smash hit Top Chef. For those of you who haven’t, you should. The head judge of the show is celebrity chef Tom Colicchio. Tom’s rise to fame came behind the stoves of New York’s Gramercy Tavern. Since leaving Gramercy in 2006, Tom has founded his own empire of Craft restaurants across the country including; Craft, Craftsteak, Craftbar and Wichcraft. His latest installment, and the subject of my most recent review, is the Atlanta outpost of his flagship Craft.

Located in the chic Lenox district of Buckhead, Craft joins a slew of recent additions to Atlanta’s burgeoning fine dining scene. Upon stepping through the entrance, one is immediately greeted with a floor to ceiling lattice of chopped firewood that sets the stage for the muted earth tones, exposed wood and brick interior. Soft lighting is provided in the main dining room by Edisonesque vintage light bulbs hung overhead. Overall the ambiance creates a warm and comforting environment while remaining subtle enough as not to detract from the food.

After taking an initial look at the menu, it became obvious to me that ordering was going to be a task. With many of my favorites listed, I opted to lean on the server for a guided journey through the evening’s culinary experience. Asking only that our waiter and chef serve the dishes that they felt best signified the mission of the restaurant, I lay my trust in the establishment.

My first dish was a seared pork belly served with jicama, frise, grapes, and peanuts. All were presented in a copper skillet. Paired with the dish, I was served a 2005 Bodegas Sierra Cantabria. The pork was cooked perfectly; the skin toasted to a chewy/crunchy texture, adding a slightly caramelized flavor that gave way to the juicy decadence of the melting fat that was finally enriched by the slightly gamish flavor of the pork. The wine had a juicy dark fruit/chocolate flavor that rounded out lusciously with a hint of vanilla and spice on the finish. The combination of the pork and wine combined to create a wonderfully full and rich experience.

In addition the pork belly, we also started with dishes of veal sweetbreads and rock shrimp risotto. The risotto was the least remarkable of the starters. The flavor of the dish was not bad but certainly not remarkable; as with so many risottos, the texture was a bit runny. The sweetbreads were a different story. An atypical delicacy in their own right, the thymus gland of a calf is not what one would typically think of as an edible dish, however; some of you may notice these specialties popping up on more and more menus across the country. I will venture to bet though that you do not see them prepared in the same manner as they were at Craft. Cooked to an impossibly tender consistency and served in Kumquat marmalade, Craft sets off the animalistic savory flavor of the sweetbread with the zesty/sweet flavor of the Kumquat; the end result proves that opposite really do attract.

For the main course, I was served the Whole Roasted Squab served with English peas and trompette mushrooms. Again presented in a copper skillet, the dish immediately conjured up images of old country gentlemen in classic Orvis style hunting garb trudging through the fields, shotguns broken and slung over the shoulder, the days catch swinging from their belt. On the rare side of medium rare, the squab had a striking resemblance to duck. With a layer of fat between the skin and meat, the bird was rich, but not overly so. The peas, cooked to a perfect al dente, provided a crisp texture to the fleshy squab while the mushrooms accentuated the field and game notes in the fowl. Paired with a 2006 Domaine Serene Pinot Noir from the Willamette Valley, the experience of the dish was one of simplistic pleasure and attention to inherent flavors without over complication and coaxing.

My tablemates chose the Colorado Lamb Loin & Braised Shoulder, as well as the braised Heritage Pork Shank & Castelluccio Lentils. Never the biggest fan of braised foods, I thought the pork fell victim, as so many braised meats due, to an extended trip in the oven. Braising undoubtedly produces some of the tenderest meats of any cooking technique, but too often is executed short of the perfection it demands. In this case, the meat fell of the bone at the slightest whisper, but fell short of remarkable once it hit the mouth. The braised portion of the lamb suffered from a similar fate. However, the loin was indeed memorable. With a slight hint of rosemary, the meat retained a level of gaminess that perked the taste buds and sparked a brief moment of unexpected perplexion as I struggled to place it. After investigating the dish a little further, I could see that a thin layer of fat had been left on the flesh and provided this wonderful flavor. Though not enough to save the dish as a whole, the pork loin was definitely a well executed and pleasing experience.

Paired with our main dishes, we had sides of Mexican Banana Squash, Jerusalem Artichokes, and Mushroom Assortment. The banana squash was kin to butternut squash and reminded me of the soups my mother made as I was growing up. Lacking any kind of extensive experience with Jerusalem Artichoke, I had no expectations or anticipation of what I might get. I was pleasantly educated. Cooked in the oven, the artichoke had a starchy consistency and flavor but was the skin was caramelized and chewy in texture. This will definitely get more face time when I see it next on a menu. The mushrooms were done well, with their natural flavors allowed to dominate and provide a forest fresh accompaniment to our mains.

All in all my meal experience was definitely a pleasant one. While the braised dishes fell short in my mind, I think the savvy diner would expect this possibility and could easily navigate a more pleasurable path through the menu. Even with its ups and downs, I would definitely recommend this establishment to anyone looking for a meal of approachable dishes, simple flavors, and attention to detail. If you do find yourself at Craft and have a difficult time deciding, put your trust in the wait staff; their choice of dishes and wine pairings was definitely the highlight of my experience and I'm sure will be of yours too.

Sunday, December 21, 2008

The Cajun Kitchen

K-Paul’s Louisiana Kitchen
416 Chartres St.
New Orleans, LA. 70130
www.chefpaul.com/site319.php

For anyone who has ever been to Louisiana, and more specifically New Orleans, and more specifically the French Quarter, it is no stretch of the imagination to know that I had a tough time deciding where I should dine during my night in the Big Easy. More a country and a culture unto itself than a part of the United States, southern Louisiana’s most predominant distinguishing feature is its Cajun heritage. With a language, history, and food all its own, Cajun heritage stems from the French originated Acadian settlers who once occupied this part of our country, until the Louisiana Purchase in 1803. Since this time, these people have been producing food unlike any other place on the planet. Today many establishments seek to exemplify this heritage in their food, but for my night I chose K-Paul’s Louisiana Kitchen as my medium for delving into this rich world of unique tastes and flavor sensations.

Located a couple blocks off Bourbon street, just far enough that you don’t have to worry about the kids running into bare chested “exotic dancers” running out into the street to vomit (don’t laugh it happened to me when I was younger), K-Paul’s store front typifies the French Quarter feel. With a wrought iron balcony, flower boxes, and gas lamps, you are immediately immersed in old Louisiana charm. This feeling is somewhat diminished when you step inside. While the physical interior of the building stays in theme with exposed white washed brick walls faded with time, a wooden bar, and exposed kitchen, the artwork and table coverings are a bit confusing. Pictures line the walls that can only be described as the result of a bad acid trip while eating a meal of Louisiana delicacies. Profiling different delectables such as personified oysters or rabbits, these paintings colorfully list recipes for several of Louisiana’s more notable dishes; the paper table coverings follow suit. Disturbing at the least… Once you make it past these oddities however, the atmosphere is homey and inviting. When the menu arrives you know that you are in a bona fide Louisiana kitchen.

Starting with the appetizers, the menu offers an assortment of traditional, and very Cajun, foods. As I read down the list several caught my eye; turtle soup, shrimp and corn bisque, and alligator sausage. Luckily I was combining this eating experience with a “work” ( I quote that because it is a loose term, as the rest of the evening would prove) meeting and just so happened to be accompanied by another foodie. This being the case, I was able to indulge in a few more dishes than if I were alone, though I guess this qualifier was a bit unnecessary given my previous posts… These three appetizers were by far the most memorable portions of the meal. The alligator sausage was an interesting mixture of chicken, pork, and alligator. If you have ever had alligator before, you know the old adage “it tastes like chicken” applies; hence I was a bit befuddled by K-Paul’s choice of accompaniment. The end result was a sausage that was far too processed, causing a smooth and unremarkable texture, and tasted like chicken. Though the sausage itself was not very memorable, the dish was not a total loss. The fourth ingredient, cayenne pepper, segued well with the sauce that the sausage was set atop. The sauce, honey mustard based, provided a slightly sweet sensation that finished with the subtle kick of the cayenne, a delicious combination. Next was the turtle soup. Apart from my brimming anticipation of indulging in a dish I had never had before, I was jazzed to sample a dish that embodies the traditional Cajun heritage more than perhaps any other, aside from andouille sausage. This being said, I was very surprised by what arrived at my table. Tomato based, the soup was more reminiscent of a beanless chili than anything unique and enlightening. The meat was tough and had been shredded to create a more edible texture. Unfortunately, the spice in the soup masked any unique flavors the turtle might have otherwise imparted. The third and final appetizer was by far the best. A simple dish that could be found at many other restaurants, K-Paul’s Shrimp and Corn bisque was notable. Most remarkable to me was the texture of the whole shrimp in the bisque. Unlike most shrimp, these were not plump and firm, but instead incredibly tender and almost fell apart when you bit into them. Aside from the shrimp, the soup executed perfectly the creamy smooth texture and corn flavor one would expect of high brow bisque.

After the appetizers, the rest of the meal was a bit downhill. Each of us followed with a salad, neither of which was particularly noteworthy, and then I had Louisiana blackened drum and my guest had a duck and shrimp dulac. Native to Louisiana, drum is a commonly blackened fish in Cajun cuisine. While not normally a fan of blackened style, I figured I should give it a try when prepared by the man who brought it to the mainstream culinary scene. I must say that it was better than any other blackened dish I have ever had, however; I am simply not a fan of this style; too heavy on the pepper. The consistency of the fish was similar to a mix between flounder and trout, and I must admit was cooked to a perfectly executed medium rare/medium and had a beautifully firm, yet smooth, texture. The duck was a bit of a surprise when it showed up. Where as most restaurants that serve duck either slice it or serve confit, this was julienned and served in gravy as more of a stew. Never having been a fan of this style, I simply think it is dirty and unrefined and does not highlight the flavor of the individual ingredients, I could not “get into” this dish.

An accurate representation of the Cajun experience, K Paul’s works hard to present dishes that speak to Louisiana’s storied heritage. Though I may not have been a fan of some of the dishes, I cannot say that they were executed poorly. For those who are partial to Cajun flavors, or even travelers seeking an authentic experience, K-Paul’s is an excellent medium for insight into the Cajun kitchen.

Saturday, December 20, 2008

The Barbecue Joint

Rendezvous
52 S. 2nd St.
Memphis, TN. 38103
www.hogsfly.com

Memphis. Undoubtedly several associations come immediately to mind when you hear this city’s name; a King, THE King, and barbecue. Ok, Ok, so maybe barbecue doesn’t pop instantly to the forefront of your mind as synonymous with Memphis, but it should. Home of the World Championship of Barbecue, Memphis has been a regional hotspot of barbecue fanaticism for decades. Known primarily for its vinegar based sauces, Memphis sports dozens of “cathedrals of smoke” where one can go worship at the alter of low and slow. The most famous of these spots is Rendezvous. Located in the heart of downtown Memphis, the first distinguishable characteristic is Rendezvous’ location. Tucked far back in an alley, it is easy to walk right past Rendezvous and not even know it, I did. After asking a few of Memphis’ numerous pan handlers for directions, I was finally pointed in the right direction and started off warily (no kidding, it’s a dark sketchy lookin’ alley) in search of my dinner. Even if you don’t spot the restaurant itself when you first enter the alley, you’d have to have an extremely dysfunctional olfactory system to not know you’re in the right spot. With smoke pouring out of its vents, the famous grilling pits send out a delicious beacon to hungry barbecue seekers, guiding the way to rendezvous’ front door.

Immediately apparent when you step inside the door is that you will be dining in a basement. In fact, the story goes that Charles Vergos was cleaning out this basement 60 years ago when he first found a coal chute and started making ribs. This leads us to the second noticeable and distinguishing aspect of Rendezvous; unlike most, and by most I mean all, notable rib makers, Rendezvous cooks their ribs over a coal grill as opposed to wood burning smoker. This is a mistake in my opinion.

As any diligent foodie would, I went straight for the ribs, they are after all famous. However, I simply cannot go into a barbecue house and not get pork shoulder, so I ordered a combo plate (remember my philosophy). I knew as soon as my plate showed up that I would be disappointed. You see, my idea of a good rib is a fall off the bone tender, sauce braised, and smoky baby back. I also prefer my sauce to be sweet and tangy. What I received was none of the above. Instead, Rendezvous’ ribs are dry rubbed, firm, lacking of the traditional mesquite or apple wood undertones, and served dry. The reason for the state of Rendezvous’ ribs is several fold: As previously mentioned, they are cooked over a coal fire so there is no wood to infuse that smoky flavor; Secondly, they are braised with vinegar as opposed to barbecue sauce; Finally, they are dry rubbed with a seasoned salt and pepper based rub. The result was a rib that was packed with flavor, but dry and firmly stuck to the bone. Additionally, the meat had a firm texture that was neither succulent nor tender. The pork shoulder followed suit. Although served with a conservative amount of sauce already across the top, I found the lump of meat to be similarly dry with a somewhat sawdust texture and resemblance. Needless to say, I was disappointed.

Although I was less than enthusiastic about my meal, I can see why some people love Rendezvous. With a unique style that creates such a unique final product, it is easy to see how some people might become fanatically attached, just not me. While I would recommend that anyone in Memphis for the night drop by and experience this restaurant for themselves, I would not recommend a repeat visit.

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

The Gastro Pub

Crow Bar
2325 E Coast Hwy
Corona Del Mar, CA 92625
http://www.thecrowbarcdm.com/

By now you have probably heard of one of these increasingly popular new facets of the culinary world, perhaps you have even eaten at one. For those of you still in the dark, what is a Gastro Pub? Think Chelsea meets Chelsea, or ‘ello meets hello. With a heavy emphasis on beer, generally revolving around a strong focus on microbrews, and a pursuit to pair beer with food ala the classical wine/food duo, these establishments characterize a new trend toward marrying the neighborhood watering hole with a trendy, food forward restaurant.

So how does Crow Bar fare in its quest to fit into this emerging genre? Located on the Pacific Coast Highway in Newport Beach, it doesn’t exactly seem at home; the typical urban setting traded for a more suburban beach town environment. Once you walk in however, you could just as easily be in the Village. With a largely open space occupied predominantly by large communal tables, the atmosphere immediately conjures up feelings of a local pub accented by a much more chic clientele. One look at the menu and any lingering doubts are quickly driven from the mind. With an eclectic mix of small plates and entrees, it’s hard to decide where to start. When in these situations, I always fall back on my guiding principles; when in doubt, order it all. Starting with a Levitation Ale and several small plates including; a Spanish cured meat plate, accompanying cheese plate, grilled dates stuffed with blue cheese, and Scotch eggs, I clearly wasted no time diving in. Following this opening melee, I followed up with a side of duck fat fries, onion rings, and pumpkin bisque. At this point more research was clearly needed, so I finished with the Crow Burger, Pork Schnitzel, and Meatball sliders, all of which were accompanied by a Pliny the Elder ale.

What could be gleaned from this clear example of grotesque consumption? Of all the dishes, three stood out above the rest; Scotch Eggs, Duck Fat Fries, and the Crow Burger. First, I’m sure you are wondering with vexed expression what a Scotch Egg could possibly be, a fried hard boiled quail egg of course! Always excited by a new and inventive dish, I was very pleased to see this unusual dish on the menu. Paired with spicy brown mustard this dish hit the spot for a new and tasty flavor. Next were the Duck Fat Fries, oh the fries… First, let me say that I love crispy fries. In fact, if my fries aren’t crispy take them back, sink them in that oil and when you think they're done, leave them another five minutes before serving. That being said, these fries were excellent. The rich duck fat infused the fries with a savory flavor of pure indulgence while browning them into crispy sticks of goodness, decadently amazing! Finally, the Crow Burger. This dish is one of Crow Bar’s more popular and “signature” dishes and couldn’t/shouldn’t be passed up. Set atop a ciabatta, topped with both tallegio and gorgonzola, and finished with roasted tomato marmalade, this burger was a gastronomic delight. The ciabatta added chewy texture while the tallegio/gorgonzola/marmalade combo worked to create a savory/sweet flavor sensation that elevated the simple backyard staple to a complex and exciting experience.

Aside from these three highlights, the rest of the meal suffered from lack of focus and execution. The Schnitzel was dry and over cooked, while the meat and cheese dishes could have easily been served in any one of thousands of restaurants, or homes for that matter, around the country. The daring ventures into the unknown exemplified in the burger and scotch eggs was unfortunately tempered by these missteps. That being said, the meal overall was an enjoyable experience and I would definitely recommend this Gastro Pub to anyone looking for an out of the ordinary dining experience after a day of shopping or beach going.

Saturday, October 25, 2008

What's It All About?

I love food. I don’t like food, I love it. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not an out of control, gluttonously insatiable individual who can’t satisfy an overwhelming urge to stuff my face. No. Simply my love stems from an almost spiritual sense of satisfaction derived from experiencing the unique flavors, smells, and emotions of a well-prepared meal. This satisfaction and emotion is not unique to me. Throughout time cultures have proudly evolved recipes and food preparation that defines them in as clear a manner as language or appearance. As with other forms of individual definition, food is surrounded by intense emotions speaking to the very core of a people. What makes food unique is the ease at which one can access these emotions. Want to make friends in China? Go to the nearest Dim Sum café and, as the cart passes your table, point to the oddest looking dish of what is clearly not an external body part; take a big bite. If the feeling you get watching the skeptical eye of your cart attendant slowly morph into a welcoming smile is not enough, think about all the meaning and symbolism behind the dish you just sampled (assuming of course you are able to keep it down!). Chances are that dish tells a story. Whether it is a broad story about the culture around you, or just a simple glimpse into the philosophies and preferences of the chef, there is a lot to be learned if you just listen to the tastes, smells, and sounds of the experience.

This blog is my attempt to share this passion for food and the experiences surrounding it. As I have traveled for work over the last two years, I’ve had the opportunity to visit a wide variety of memorable eating establishments. From highly anticipated installments of the latest celebrity chef, to ethnically authentic meals shared around dining room tables, I have been afforded the opportunity to partake in truly unique and memorable eating occasions. As I continue to travel and engage in this culinary adventure, I will do my best to chronicle my journey in a way that you can share in what is truly one of my greatest passions. Enjoy!