RESTAURANT REVIEW: Il Sanlorenzo, Rome, ITALY

I recently tried to describe a certain category of Italian restaurant to someone who had spent very little time in Italy. The category is the upscale ristorante di pesce, or fish restaurant, and all over the Italian peninsula, this kind of restaurant stands out to me as its own special genre. The Italian fish restaurant also happens to be one of my favorite kinds of places in the world to enjoy a great meal.

I'm not talking about any old fish place. Sure, I love seaside spots where you can actually see the water your dinner came from, quite possibly caught just hours earlier. Italy excels in this type of dining experience too, though I've been lucky enough to have enjoyed plenty of great seaside restaurants around the world, from the Aeolian Islands to the Amalfi Coast to Venice, Thailand to Tel Aviv, Uruguay to southern France, Maine to the Florida Keys. I'm also not talking about the beloved seafood shack, where you can enjoy home-style specialties like lobster rolls and clam chowder, Old Bay-dusted crabs and fish and chips. I love those spots too, in all of their rubber-boots-in-sawdust-covered-floor glory. (I can still clean a crab, peel a shrimp, and deconstruct a lobster faster than most -- skills I learned as a young girl). No, I'm talking about the elegant, refined dining of an Italian ristorante di pesce, which may be at the beach or in a port, but is just as likely in a metropolitan city like Rome or Milan. 

My favorite spot in all of Rome for fine fish and "fruits of the sea" (frutti di mare) is a spot tucked on a back street off of Campo de' Fiori, and just down the street from my old beloved apartment on the edge of the Jewish quarter. In fact, it's the old site of what used to be called Sotto Sopra, location of the second incarnation of our American brunch in Rome --  a story for another time and another blog post. The space it occupies, meanwhile, is a gorgeous, cavernous bi-level restaurant with a raised, glassed-in kitchen and arched cathedral ceilings hung with beautiful chandeliers. The subterranean area (once the dungeon-like downstairs of a messy discoteca) is perfect as a wine cellar and temperate spot for sipping some of Il Sanlorenzo's delicious vintages.

But beyond the vibrant, sophisticated atmosphere, the important thing here is the food -- and above all, the quality and freshness of the seafood itself. There is a display when you walk through the entrance featuring the day's fresh catch, which may include any variety of local white fish (branzino, turbot, gilthead bream), tuna, swordfish, crustaceans galore (the Mediterranean offers a wealth of shrimp varieties we've never seen in the States), mussels and clams, sea urchin, squid, octopus...and the list goes on. Much of it comes from the waters off the coast between Rome and Naples, though some items may come from Sicily and Puglia, all the way north to Venice.

The most talented Italian seafood chefs know that the best thing they can do to top-quality fish and seafood is to do very little. Let the delicate flavor of the fish shine through. Which is why a dish in the tasting antipasto of crudi (raw items) like the tartare trio is so enjoyable. We tasted three types of fish -- yellowfin tuna, sea bass, and amberjack -- cut into a small dice and mixed with extra-virgin olive oil, a squeeze of citrus, and a few fresh herbs. That's all the fish needs.

The raw antipasto continued with one of my personal favorites, the carpaccio di gamberi rossi. They flatten the famous red shrimp from southern Italy into a paper-thin disc on the plate. It's then dressed with little more than olive oil, sea salt, a zest of lemon and a squeeze of lemon juice. It is beautiful on the plate and on the tongue. We proceeded with possibly my favorite of all elegant sea creatures: scampi. Don't be confused -- these are not the shrimp in 'shrimp scampi' (which makes no sense in Italian, by the way: it means 'shrimp langoustine' and does not exist as a dish in Italy). 

These are crustaceans of their own category, known in various parts of the world as langoustines, or Dublin Bay prawns, or in Italy, scampi. They are the sophisticated cross between a shrimp and the most tender baby lobster you can imagine. They can be cooked gently on a grill or in a saute' pan, or lightly poached, but to me, they're best raw. Like the red shrimp, their delicate briny flavor is best experienced with a soft, pliable texture that you can only have before they're cooked. There's not much meat for all the work required to get at it, but patience is rewarded with unique flavor. I think it's worth it. The final plate of our raw appetizer tasting was, per our request, some delicious, fresh-from-the-sea ricci di mare, or sea urchin, shown in this posting's opening photo. Again, it's not about quantity of substance, but rather the briny, unctuous punch packed into the tiny, flame-orange pockets of the prickly shell. These are actually egg sacks and offer up a creamy, custard-like saline treat you scoop out. To note is that all of this was accompanied by some delicious, wire-thin grissini, and washed down with a delicious, crisp rose' champagne. To me, the best accompaniment to fine raw seafood is often something sparkling.

The pastas on offer here are delicious and well-balanced -- memorable is a long pasta with lobster in which the pasta is cooked in lobster stock for an added layer of flavor. We split a primo so as not to throw our meal completely off course, which was a lovely tagliolini with a ragu featuring my beloved gambero rosso, both cooked and raw, with fresh uncooked tomato and herbs.  It was light and silky and the perfect portion.

Often, when a meal features spectacular antipasti, by the time you get to your secondo (main course), it can be a bit anticlimactic. Not here. There were so many options to tempt, and I know from past experience here that the simplest of dishes (a salt-baked spigola [sea bass], for instance) is anything but plain when done well. We decided on one simple main, and one less so. A delicious piece of Mediterranean sea bass was perfectly cooked, skin crisped, and set atop a bed of wilted greens and served on a clean, oven-roasted tomato consomme.

We also thoroughly enjoyed the swordfish, marinated in soy and charred on the grill,which was plated on a brilliant spiral of sweet-and-sour vegetable sauce, garnished with frigitelli (small sweet green peppers) and pistachios. The two mains complemented each other well, and proved to be substantial enough that there was no way we had room for dessert! It's a shame because desserts here, too, are accomplished and decadent. But we had many more hours to go in our evening, and we didn't want to weigh ourselves down after an already grand meal. It turned out to be a good choice, all of it. My boyfriend said then, and continues to claim, that he felt as good after that meal as any meal he's ever eaten. It's quite a statement, but one with which I agree. Il Sanlorenzo makes you feel pampered with good service, well-fed and overwhelmingly happy with a delicious, fresh Italian seafood feast, and sends you off into the night, elated and satisfied. And really, what more could anyone ask of a great meal?

Ristorante Il Sanlorenzo

Via dei Chiavari 4/5 Roma

+39 (06) 686.5097

www.ilsanlorenzo.it

info@ilsanlorenzo.it

Closed Mondays.

MARKETS: L.A. Farmers Market

Farmer's Markets right now are, one could say, trending. And though we're using a very 21st century term for a much older concept, we can be thankful that there's been a kind of movement in this country to get back to the basics that once made this an agrarian nation. California is of course responsible for a large segment of America's produce. But when we think of Los Angeles, southern California's metropolis, we generally think of urban sprawl and smog, and Hollywood, Santa Monica and Malibu.

But not...farms. And yet, the Los Angeles Farmers Market -- coined "The Original" -- is a venerable institution that has been around since 1934, when L.A. was decidedly less urban. At the corner of Third and Fairfax, its central location makes it a Los Angeles landmark.

It's a market housed in a building structure that allows it to have an open courtyard feeling inside, while the merchants and restaurants within are based in covered permanent structures.

It's a destination where you can source great produce, poultry, meat, and seafood, and stay for lunch at one of the great stalls or restaurants housed in the market. Both Farm Boy Produce and Farm Fresh Produce offer great fresh fruits and veggies, including items you'd find not just in California, but also south of the border, and in Asia. Puritan Poultry offers fresh chicken, turkey, and exotic fowl, and Farmers Market Poultry specializes in delicious turkey and quality eggs. Marconda's Meats offers top-notch butchered cuts of beef, lamb, and pork, as well as homemade Italian sausages and cold cuts. Tusquellas Seafoods is the place for staples like shrimp, tuna, salmon, cod, and snapper, as well as fresh daily catches -- and some cooking tips for anyone who asks.

Little Spain is a gourmet market with a tiny restaurant tucked into its back interior patio, and offers all the wondrous foods and specialty ingredients found in Spanish cooking. In fact, there are several specialty-item stores. Dragunara Spice Bazaar has a mind-boggling array of spices and spice mixes, as well as specialty salts (a personal favorite). T (The Tea Shoppe) has an exotic array of teas, particularly from Asia -- heavenly for all of those tea purists out there.

Zia Valentina is a spot specializing in the fabulous frozen Sicilian treat called granita (the original frozen treat before Italians made the leap to gelato), as well as specialty Italian baked goods and healthy shakes and nibbles to jump-start your morning. There are several delicious bakeries, including Normandie Bakery (classic French style), T&Y Bakery, Short Cake, and Du-Par's Pie Shop (a real American throwback). And for old-fashioned American frozen goodness, there is Bennett's Ice Cream and Gill's Old Fashioned Ice Cream. 

And then there are the restaurants. With a generous seating area and so many delicious spots from which to choose, I could happily eat here 3 times a week if I lived in the area (luckily for my waistline, I do not). The restaurants in the Farmers Market are a reflection of the ethnic diversity of Los Angeles itself. Of course, you have Mexican food, sushi, pizza, Chinese, deli, and vegetarian food. But you also have Korean, Brazilian, Middle Eastern, Cajun, Greek, Texas BBQ, Spanish, and French cuisine featured here.

I decided to try the Southeast Asian restaurant called Singapore's Banana Leaf, on a recent visit. They offer a mix of Singapore-style Malaysian, Indonesian, and Indian cuisine -- because that's how they eat in Singapore. This delicious mash-up proved satisfying, filling, and delicious. For under $10 a plate, any one dish would serve as a great lunch.

But I suffered from eyes-bigger-than-my-stomach syndrome, and was curious to taste a couple of dishes. I started with the Rojak salad, a tasty tossing-together of cucumber, pineapple, bean sprouts, apple, tofu, and spinach. The spicy peanut-tamarind dressing brought it all together in the hot-sour way that makes food from this part of the world so interesting...and more-ish.

I followed that up with Mee Indo Style -- that is, pan-sauteed noodles with two satay sticks and a fried egg on top - -with spicy peanut sauce on the side for dipping, of course. If I'd been hung over it would have been beyond perfect, but as it stands, this lunch was pretty fabulous. A limeade to help wash it down was the best accompaniment I could have asked for.

There are other, non-food-related stores at the Farmers Market, including Zara, a sunglass store, and a new Havaianas store, to satisfy all of your Brazilian flip-flop fantasies. The Grove L.A. is literally steps away from the Farmers Market, too. It's a popular gathering spot if you need to make a run to the Apple Store, Nike, or Nordstrom, or to see a movie or grab a bite to eat in one of the pretty eateries in the main square. I prefer just enjoying the Farmers Market for what it offers. When L.A. can feel like a nameless, faceless sprawling metropolis, it's merchants and farmers that gather in one place, like this, that remind us that we're a community, first and foremost. That's enough for me. That, and maybe a scoop of ice cream.  

L.A. FARMERS MARKET

Monday - Friday: 9 am - 9 pm

Saturday: 9 am to 8 pm

Sunday: 10 am - 7 pm

Telephone: (323) 933.9211

Toll Free: (866) 993.9211

www.farmersmarketla.com

FOOD PORN: A Look Back, 2014: Sweet Endings

Ahhh, dessert. There's no better way to cap off an enjoyable, delicious meal than with a little bit of sweet decadence. For me, if at all possible, it's in the form of chocolate. That's me, that's how I am and have always been. But occasionally, if it's done well, I love a good cheesecake or creme brulee', a carrot cake or an apple pie. Or, as in the case of the above photo -- taken in real time as I served this dessert to clients this summer in the Hamptons, no photoshopping necessary -- a good fruit tart, especially in the summer. 

Herewith, more samples from my photo gallery of sweets. They're mostly plated desserts, some single serving and some are whole pies or cakes or tarts. But they're all homemade, from scratch, and made with love. I'm not a pastry chef, specifically. But I love making delicious desserts (always have), and I think the way to make a client's meal memorable is to end it on a high note.

Some of my clients are kosher, some are vegetarian, some are lactose-intolerant or gluten-free eaters. I enjoy catering to specific tastes and relish the challenge of creating delicious food within guidelines. But my favorite type of food-specific eaters? Dessertarians, of course!

Flourless chocolate cake with fresh strawberry sauce

...and plated, with caramel sauce and raspberry truffle and pistachio ice creams

 

It's only right that I would start out the tantalizing photo stream with chocolate galore. Flourless chocolate cake is always a favorite, and it's so versatile. The chocolate fondant cake is also a classic, and this version with a molten center and a caramelized outside is particularly decadent. I paired it with homemade banana-caramel ice cream, a caramelized banana slice, blackberry sauce, and a meringue kiss.
The chocolate truffletorte is as rich as they come, with a thickened ganache consistency and shaved white chocolate on top. I paired it with a white and dark chocolate-dipped strawberry and edible flowers, and sprinkled strawberry rock crystal candy around the plate for whimsy. It's a serious chocolate-lover's dessert, with a wink.

Valentine's Day is always a time we think of sweet treats, and clients hosted some fun, romance-themed dinner parties in 2014. A simple, but moist, red velvet cake with classic cream cheese icing strikes a chord with many. My version definitely falls on the side of chocolatey, deep red -- not the electric red version that's simply vanilla cake with a ridiculous amount of red food coloring.

But that's my personal preference, of course. A departure from the classic is the rosewater panna cotta I served together with the red velvet cake. This was a creamy, light, subtle dessert with hints of the exotic. The panna cotta itself is tangy, the strawberry sauce bright and sweet, and the balsamic reduction a counterpoint to all of the above. Rosewater turkish delight and candied violets as garnish elevate the final dessert futher, adding texture and nuance. I loved how this all turned out!

Individual Apple Crumble

Apple-cinnamon tart

I love good old American apple desserts, in pretty much any form. One of my favorite ways to enjoy fruit desserts is by making them into crumbles. I make them all summer long with berries and stone fruits like peaches, nectarines, plums, and pluots. Come autumn, I go for apples and, upon occasion, pears. There's something about the combination of these fall fruits with cinnamon and warm spices that screams perfection in sweater weather. I also love cheesecake. It's a no-chocolate "exception" dessert for me. I love both the classic New York version as well as the Italian/Roman ricotta version. They bridge the continental divide that is my life in cooking. They also make for damned tasty endings to great meals, and they're light enough so they don't weigh on you. I love a classic with strawberries, but I also love throwing some chocolate chips in with the batter and making these mini ricotta cheesecakes. I like to whip some cream and add some crushed pistachios to it, and top it all off with some berries (here, raspberries) and mint. Light and delicious!

Pine nut tart with grapefruit-rosemary sorbetto

Pavlova with red fruits and passion fruit sorbet

Sometimes desserts are a challenge to pair within the context of a meal. Sometimes, the meal dictates the invention of a new dessert that just works. Often these are "compound desserts" made up of several elements that work better together as a whole. The desserts above and here all fall into that category. A chewy, caramelized pine nut tart laced with rosemary in its caramel base is accompanied by a bracing grapefruit-rosemary sorbetto. Gluten-free diners on Valentine's Day shouldn't miss out on all the pleasures of decadent desserts: to wit, a meringue pavlova filled with pillowy cream and red fruits pairs perfectly with a tart passion fruit sorbet. It was a multi-course Moroccan meal that spurred me to invent a dessert worthy of the previous courses. The solution was a light-as-air citrus cake on a meyer lemon yogurt cream, marinated figs and dates in spiced syrup, caramelized figs, and an orange-mint salad. Gorgeous, light, and a great complement to the spirit of the Moroccan food. 

 

And then there's the beauty of the berry, in its various forms. I love the classic strawberry shortcake, like the one above -- closer to a lightly sweet biscuit, stuffed with fresh organic whipped cream, and lashed with ripe, juicy berries. There's the more ascetic but incredibly flavorful dessert I created of a strawberry-balsamic sorbetto, packed with flavor, over minted sliced strawberries and paired with a pistachio tuile and a touch of whipped cream -- a bit of an Italian-modernist version of the strawberry shortcake.

In a class of its own? The simple, dignified elegance of a chocolate-dipped berry, here used to top a shadow cake. This magnificent dessert is a cake my mother used to pick up from a local bakery for family birthdays when I was a child, when she didn't have time to make a homemade cake. It's a layer of chocolate cake and a layer of vanilla, with chocolate buttercream in the middle, regular buttercream on the outside, and a chocolate ganache glaze on top. I doubled down for a client's birthday, here, and made the cake 4 layers, alternating between chocolate and vanilla. The ganache is extra rich, and the chocolate-covered strawberry trim is my over-the-top invention...for which I refuse to apologize. This cake was what the Italians would call "una bomba" -- a bomb. And it is. A delicious, decadent bomba. And that's what dessert, of course, is all about.

 

QUICK BITE: The Chocolate of Modica, Sicily

With the approach of San Valentino, or Valentine's Day as it's known in the U.S., my thoughts turn to all that this holiday stands for: love and romance, of course, red hearts and red roses. But for me, this holiday will always be about my first love, the love I've had for one thing, since I can remember first tasting it: chocolate. And so I thought I'd indulge my readers with a quick bite of information about the world-renowned Sicilian chocolate I was lucky enough to experience first-hand this summer.

Modica is a gorgeous baroque town that spreads across two hills, divided by its main thoroughfare at the bottom of these hills, Corso Umberto I. This town, just a few miles inland from the southern Sicilian coast, seems encapsulated in time. And though it had existed for many centuries previous to the terrible earthquake at the end of the 17th century, Modica was left in ruins. The resulting rebuild in the style of that time period gave us a gorgeous baroque jewel (like so many towns in this part of the island, famous for their baroque architecture) that is a beauty to behold. Sicilians, traditionalists that they are, may have rebuilt a new city, but even an earthquake couldn't shake them from their traditions, first and foremost of the culinary variety.

The Spanish had conquered Sicily during the period of Spanish exploration to the New World, and so the Spanish happened to introduce many food items they discovered in the Americas, cacao included. The Aztec method for using cacao was often used to make a bitter drink (not unlike coffee), or to be added to savory dishes, like the Sicilian u lebbru 'nciucculattatu - - wild hare cooked in a chocolate sauce, still made today in local restaurants. Another incarnation of an Aztec cacao recipe was for cold-worked chocolate, which is the style in which Modica's chocolate is still made today. 

The chocolate of Modica -- which has been winning awards internationally for over a century -- sticks to the very simple recipe of hand-ground cocoa beans and sugar. E basta. That's it. This allows for the quality and flavor of the cocoa bean itself to shine through, with natural cocoa butter and no added soy lecithin, or any other emulsifiers or additives. The Mexican stone called a metate is used to grind the cocoa beans, as shown in this photo (taken in a cave-like chocolate processing room off of the main corso in town, part of the Chocolate Museum's tour). This ground cocoa is gently warmed and mixed with sugar. But it's warmed to between 40-50 degrees celsius, so the sugar doesn't melt. This preserves the flavors and the nutrients and antioxidants of the cocoa better than modern processing methods. 

It also leaves the texture as very granular and crumbly, so you get that sugar crunch when you bite into it. There are various popular flavors the Sicilians add to their chocolate, and they're generally locally-grown and reflect their culinary history as an island whose conquerors included the Spanish, French, and Arabs. You'll see Modica chocolate with pistachios and almonds, cinnamon and cardamom, citrus zest, peperoncino (chile pepper), black and white pepper, and sea salt, mint and jasmine. The flavor combinations with the style of the cold-processed chocolate make for a unique taste experience.

The most famous arbiters of this taste experience are the owners of Antica Dolceria Bonajuto, a tiny jewel box of a chocolatier tucked into a side alley off of the main drag in Modica. It was established in 1880, and is the oldest chocolate shop in Sicily. But you can find great Modica chocolate in almost any shop in town, as well as in many specialty shops all over the island.

Sicilians are proud of their chocolate-making tradition, and rightly so. I realized just how proud they were when I toured the Museo del Cioccolato di Modica, or the Chocolate Museum, which shares pride of place in the center of town, housed in a former convent of St. Francis alla Cava. They've got a sculpture in chocolate of the entire Italian peninsula and islands, as well as some beautiful chocolate sculptures made by artists and students, creating everything from a series of chocolate pastry chefs to the Incredible Hulk, handmade and all in Modica chocolate. Impressive, and fun.

But the chocolate in Modica isn't only eaten in sweet form in bar or bonbon, nor is it only for show in creative sculpture. We can't forget to mention cannoli, the delicious flaky fried cinnamon-scented dough funnel, stuffed (fresh, on request, please!) with a sweetened ricotta filling and rolled in ground pistachios and chocolate bits, in its best iteration. The chocolate is also folded into mpanatigghi, small pastries stuffed with minced meat and chocolate, in a very Arab-influenced preparation. 

And there are also liccumie, another pastry-like preparation stuffed with eggplant and chocolate (which was basically my motivation to come to this part of Sicily: they pair my two favorite food things! In one dish!). I enjoyed a dessert inspired by this combination in an elegant restaurant in town: an eggplant custard-like filling covered in dark chocolate from Modica. Heaven.  

So, when you're considering which chocolates you should surprise your sweetheart with this Valentine's Day, or you're deciding which chocolate to treat yourself to this year, consider the unique flavors of chocolate from Modica. Better yet, go for the ultimate indulgence and head to the source! There's nothing more romantic than a getaway to an Italian island for some chocolate amore...

Antica Dolceria Bonajuto
Corso Umberto I, 159
+39 0932 94122
www.bonajuto.it/en/

Museo del Cioccolato Modica
Piazzo 8 Marzo
+39 347 461.2771
museo.cioccolatomodica@gmail.com   

RECIPE: Ribollita (Tuscan minestrone bread soup)

There are few things better on a bitter cold day, or evening, than a bowl of ribollita, the cool weather Tuscan bread soup. It's made with a Tuscan minestrone base, to which stale bread is added -- preferably the tasteless, salt-free crusty bread that became a staple in Tuscany when an overwhelming majority of citizens refused to pay a steep salt tax. It's even been used to clean precious frescoes in Tuscan churches, as its texture is similar to a sponge (its stand-alone taste is fairly similar, too). 

How is a Tuscan minestrone different from your average minestrone, you may ask? It shares all of the basic vegetables, like celery, carrots, and onions, of course. But Tuscans, like their mangiafagioli (bean-eaters) moniker suggests, often add cannellini beans to dishes, for added heft, starch, and protein.

Their minestrone is no exception, so they use beans to replace the tiny pasta tubes that the rest of the Italian peninsula uses. They also add Tuscan kale (or lacinato), what in Italian is called cavolo nero (black kale) or cavolo laciniato (fringed kale). This is sliced or hand-torn into strips that get thrown into the minestrone, adding color and great nutrients and fiber to the soup. 

The thing that turns Tuscan minestrone into ribollita (which literally means "re-boiled") is the addition of bread. The Tuscans are a thrifty bunch, not ones to let bread go to waste simply because it's stale. So they have a series of bread-thickened soups in their culinary repertoire to make the most of it. Ribollita is the wintry version, and it's one of my all-time favorites. It freezes well, so you can make a huge pot of it during, say, a February snowstorm. You can eat it until (and if) you get sick of it, and freeze the rest for another blustery night.

RIBOLLITA

(Serves 4-8)

6 TBS. Olive oil, plus more for drizzling

1 onion, chopped into medium dice

1 carrot, chopped into medium dice

2 stalks celery, chopped into medium dice

3 cloves garlic

2 cups cooked or canned cannellini beans, drained

4 whole peeled tomatoes or 1 15-oz. can peeled tomatoes

8 cups vegetable stock or chicken stock

1 sprig fresh rosemary

2 sprigs fresh thyme

2 bunches chopped cavolo nero (black kale)

1 small loaf Tuscan (unsalted) or crusty peasant bread, preferably a day old

1/2 cup freshly grated parmigiano cheese

Salt & pepper to taste

- Warm 6 TBS. of olive oil in a large pot over medium heat. When it's hot, toss in the onion, celery, carrot, and garlic. Sprinkle with a dash of salt and pepper and cook, stirring so the vegetables don't stick, until they're softened, about 5 minutes.

- Add the tomatoes and beans, stir and cook for 2 minutes. Add the broth and the rosemary and thyme, and cook for 15-20 minutes, so the flavors meld.

- Add the kale (and remove the herbs if you'd like), and stir to blend. Add salt and pepper to taste.

- Tearing the bread with your hands into bite-sized chunks, slowly add the bread to the broth, mixing to absorb the bread every 10 pieces or so. You may not use the whole loaf, but you may. The consistency should be a thick porridge. Let the soup cook another 15 minutes or so, simmering on low, so the bread breaks down and becomes integrated into the soup a bit. Taste to adjust for seasoning.

- To serve, ladle into bowls, drizzle generously with the highest-quality extra-virgin olive oil you can find (Tuscan is most relevant here), and sprinkle with grated parmigiano cheese.

Note: Like most soups, this one is even better the next day, or even the day after that. Since it's ribollita (re-boiled) anyway, it keeps very well for several days in the fridge, or for 2 months in the freezer.

FOOD PORN: A Look Back at 2014 (Private Chef Edition)

Vietnamese marinated grilled pork chops on watercress with watermelon, pickled watermelon rind, + fizzled shallots

Here we have Part 2 of the 2014 Food Porn "A Look Back" -- this time, dedicated to private chef and small-scale catering events for which I created menus and cooked my rear off in the pursuit of deliciousness. I prepared plenty of Italian meals, as always, but I also spanned the globe for myriad influences and exciting tastes and flavor pairings to keep me on my toes, and keep my clients' palates tickled. So now, on to the good stuff.

Sumac-roasted cauliflower salad with celery, parsley, and pomegranate

Winter Valentine's salad of veggies and "heart beets"

Spicy lobster fra diavolo with spinach fettucine

Moroccan-spiced beet and carrot salad with carrot-top pesto

Thai crab salad on Upland cress with pomelo, peanuts, mint, and fried garlic

Dover sole with rosemary roasted baby potatoes and asparagus

In the cold winter weather, I get a lot of requests for beef tenderloin -- it impresses guests but also acts as upscale comfort food. I love pairing it with polenta, either soft or made ahead and seared in a grill pan. I pair it with a bitter green of some kind, and finish with a barely-sweet sauce of red wine or balsamic vinegar. Below, two different preparations:

Beef tenderloin with griddled polenta diamonds, broccoletti, balsamic reduction

Pepper-crusted beef tenderloin, soft polenta and Tuscan kale, Sangiovese-shallot sauce

Summertime sheds a whole new light on primary ingredients (literally: the sun), and with it, the ability to play around with countless fruits and vegetables, and lighter fare, than clients crave in cooler months. Composed salads and seafood reign supreme, and seaside dining offers the perfect backdrop for tasty, and healthy, meals with friends and family.

Composed summer fruit and vegetable salad

Striped bass ceviche with holy basil, pomegranate, mache, and herb oil

Burrata with heirloom tomatoes, white peaches, and torn garden herbs

  

Snapper over julienned veggies with cockles in a saffron sauce

Nicoise salad with fresh seared tuna

Some delicious savory eats for the Jewish Holidays...

Roast chicken with vegetables and za'atar

Beef tenderloin

...into early and late autumn dishes.

Striped bass, wild rice with ginger sauce, asparagus + carrots, carrot top pesto

Heirloom tomato + radicchio salad with grilled peaches, herb vinaigrette

Angel hair with crab, caviar, chives, and white wine sauce

Seared halibut with velvet potato puree and Israeli veggie ragout

Striped bass, harissa couscous, haricot vert, saffron aioli

Grilled pork chop, silk potatoes, walnut-grape chutney

Autumn greens, mushrooms sungold tomatoes, goat cheese + hazelnuts

Grilled tuna steak over wilted greens, tomato-ginger-garlic confit

Have a delicious day! 

#bluaubergine

ESCAPES: Santiago, Chile

Plaza de Armas in central Santiago

It was just before the end of 2013 that I was headed to Chile, landing in Santiago a few days before New Year's Eve. I wasn't sure what to expect of the metropolitan city, but I'd heard good things, and had a high school friend who'd moved to the progressive capital city a few years back. Santiago has been named one of the best cities in the Americas for start-ups and entrepreneurial activity, which always interests me. This connotes an innovative approach to life, which I very much appreciate. I was interested to explore Santiago. And it was summer in the southern hemisphere (with arctic temperatures and record lows back in New York City), so what better time than January? I met my friend Jessica who'd arrived in Santiago a few days before I had. She'd already explored some of the great markets of the city, hunting for trinkets and keepsakes and anything in the market that would trigger her sense of the place, that she could eventually translate into jewelry back home. We were staying in a lovely hotel in a bucolic part of town called Las Condes. I was severely jet-lagged, having traveled from Miami with a stopover in Lima, Peru, without the benefit of sleep. Once I checked into my spacious digs (the room was a suite with a kitchenette), I booked a massage and took a power nap. The spa in the hotel was welcoming and cozy and the massage did wonders for my aching back, post-flight. After a shower, I met Jess on the rooftop bar with fabulous views of the city. With a glass of Chilean white in hand, we surveyed the tall buildings and mountainous backdrop -- and temperate weather -- with smiles. Our first night, we met my friend Tim and a gaggle of his expat friends at a nearby bar called Flannery's. Now, it's a well-known fact that every city has its fair share of Irish pubs, so I had my trepidation in going there. But as it turns out, it's very much a part of the "real" Santiago experience, at least as an expat. We caught up and met Tim's interesting and eclectic group of friends and had too many white wines to make it to dinner at a reasonable hour.

 So, we stumbled nearby to the beautiful W Hotel Santiago -- the first W Hotel in South America, in fact -- and ate a lovely late-night dinner in their lobby restaurant. Since I was on a mission to consume as much ceviche as possible, and fresh Pacific seafood in general, I started my first night with some barely-seared tuna and some sea bass ceviche, for good measure.  

We left the following day for the coast, but we returned to Santiago towards the end of the first week in January. One of the things we heard most frequently from locals and guides was how easy the metro system was to use. I am a New Yorker, so I usually feel like I have a handle on underground travel anyway. But this was, in fact, an easy, clean, inexpensive, and relatively hassle-free way to get around the city, even for those who may be public transport-averse. Some metro stations have mini shopping malls within their subterranean walls, or beautiful artwork in the form of large-scale murals, depicting scenes from Chile's history, like the photograph pictured. Santiago also boasts a lot of great outdoor space in the form of parks and plazas, and the city is quite dedicated to green construction, sometimes covering entire office buildings with living terrariums. It's a great foil to the glass-and-concrete downtown buildings, and in line with the progressive thinking of this very European-influenced South American capital.

As much as Santiago offers many of the great marks of a capital city -- wonderful art and history museums, grand public spaces and parks, interesting shopping and markets -- and these should be explored, of course...my focus is specifically food-related here. So, the basic rules of what you can expect to find in Chile are fairly simple. I went during the Southern Hemisphere summer, so there was lots of luscious fruit to be found in the markets, best of all the gorgeous, fragrant, elongated frutillas (strawberries) and the incredibly inexpensive and delicious, buttery paltas (avocados). (Chileans consume the most avocados per capita of any place on the planet). The streets are lined with vendors offering fresh fruit and vegetables at ridiculously low prices.

Eating casually, you can find some great bocadillos, or sandwiches, in casual sandwich shops to old school watering holes. The lomo sandwich, with roast pork, is a Chilean classic called the chacarero, and is sliced pork piled on a crusty roll, often with tomatoes, cheese, peppers, and something green -- possibly chimichurri sauce, sometimes green beans. The sandwich is an appetite-killer, very satisfying and homey, and delicious with a cold beer or sangria. There are empanadas aplenty in Chile, made with everything from classic ground beef to potato or pumpkin to crab or mixed seafood. It's a great lunch or portable snack, especially by the beach. And though there are precious few internationally-sought-after Chilean dishes, the seafood here is really fresh, and is served in everything from stews (try the famous Conger Eel stew, called Caldillo di Congrio) to one of the inspirations for my trip to Chile in the first place: CEVICHE.

I already mentioned my deep love for ceviche in my previous post about coastal Chile/Valparaiso and Vina del Mar, so I'll spare the waxing poetic once again. But really, if any food is deserving of poetic praise, ceviche is up there on the list. Yes, there are a lot of onions involved. Also, the pepper in some form, often aji' amarillo, the famously sweet-and-spicy local yellow pepper. There is citrus aplenty, though just as often the sour juice used is something a little more aromatic, like passion fruit (oh, do I love passion fruit!). And then the varieties of seafood used in these ceviches is head-spinning. But all pristine and local, and fresh, as is required in this dish. 

As for neighborhoods boasting some great spots to enjoy food and drink, Bellavista is among the cutest. This is the part of town, built on a hill, where Pablo Neruda's Santiago house, La Chascona, is located. (I highly recommend going to this museum-house, though they don't allow photos to be taken inside, hence no photos here). There is a complex on the main road leading down from the house, called Patio Bellavista. It's essentially a plaza lined with bars and restaurants and shops, particularly ones that sell artisanal products, from soaps to honeys to handcrafted jewelry. Then on this same street, (Constitucion), there are plentiful dining spots from which to choose. We settled in on the very adorable Como Agua Para Chocolate (Like Water For Chocolate), based on the novel and film of the same name. This cute, Mexican-themed oasis features a romantic setting. Apps and mains can be light or heavy (from salads and ceviches to fried goodies and full dinners), but always save room for dessert. There are some ridiculous chocolate-based offerings, and with a name like this, you must try them! 

 

The second half of our time in Santiago, we actually rented a 2-bedroom condo, complete with pool and gym, to feel a bit more like locals than when we were staying in a hotel. We started to find our way around town. We were in the Cerro Santa Lucia neighborhood, with a great park and a large market nearby. It's a cute part of town very close to Lastarria: this is the part of Santiago in which I would most likely hang out, and probably live, if ever I were to spend any significant amount of time here. It's got the bohemian vibe and high cafe/restaurant/bar index I look for in a beloved neighborhood. Cobblestone streets, check. Great food spots, check. Wine bars to dive bars, check, check.The only problem I really see with Santiago night life is that there isn't much of it, particularly for a Latin American city, so here one must be contented with nice drinks, a dinner, and a nightcap -- most places don't even stay open much past 1 am.

Still, the places that are around, especially in Lastarria, are great. For good food and wine, there is Bocanariz (mouth nose!), serving interesting flights of wine and great apps-as-meal dishes like a selection of ceviches, sashimi, and various raw or barely-cooked seafood delicacies. The seared tuna was amazing, and the passion fruit ceviche hit the right notes for me. We also enjoyed an interesting quinoa and shrimp salad -- everything light and tasty, and great accompaniment to the delicious white wines from the Central Coast (we'd just returned from a wine tasting trip to the area -- more on that in another post).

There's an old school dive bar just down the street where we had some great after-dinner drinks, called Bar Berri.It's a turn-of-the-century colonial house that was an illicit after-hours bar, now a 2-story drinking den for a mix of local cool kids and expats. And just around the corner and down the street a bit, you'll find Emporio La Rosa, voted by The Daily Meal as one of the 25 best ice cream shops in the world -- and they're not afraid to tout this ranking. Their flavors are indeed amazing, so beyond the usual nut and chocolate and fruit combinations, you have rose petal and dulce de leche and lucuma (a local fruit called egg fruit). They also serve sandwiches and lunches and coffee, but really the driving force here is the wonderful selection of top-notch helado (ice cream).

As for high end fine dining, the Vitacura area (sort of the Madison Avenue of Santiago), with lots of upscale shopping, also features upscale restaurants. Puerto Fuy, a gorgeous hot spot among many in this chi-chi nabe, is a gem. The talented chef Giancarlo Mazzarelli created not only the menu but also the decor, with an organic, woodsy feel reminiscent of the lake district in Chile. The formal dining room up front is more urban spare-chic. Jess got a foamy, frothy creamy mushroom soup that was an intense representation of the best a chef can possibly extract from a fungus: it was heavenly. I ordered a mixed seafood starter that included octopus, sea urchin, crab, conger eel, and ceviche -- kind of like a refined greatest seafood hits of our Chilean adventure. It, too, was a treat. The main courses were stellar as well, with a highlight of a local fish prepared three different ways. We shared a dessert -- yes, the ubiquitous molten chocolate cake, but with a fresh strawberry sorbet that may have been the best thing I've ever experienced made from a berry. Gaston Acurio, the biggest celebrity chef in Peru, has cebicherias all over the world, and his La Mar in Vitacura is a gorgeous one. There's a maritime feel to surroundings, with a view of the Andes from the terrace -- plus, great ceviche and the best pisco sour in town. And though I'm not one to advise travelers to eat in Italian restaurants outside of Italy (and I almost never do it, myself), I will admit that I enjoyed a fun dinner with Jess and my high school friend Tim at Tiramisu' in Las Condes (or nearby). This success of a restaurant is comprised of 4 rooms (they kept expanding to keep up with demand), and still there's always a wait at this pizzeria/casual trattoria. But the bar scene is fun so lingering in anticipation of a table isn't so bad. And in reality, the pizzas are damned good, authentic Neapolitan pizzas. And that's all one can really ask of a pizzeria.

There are countless other restaurants serving up local, Peruvian, Argentine, and all kinds of food from all over the globe, and Santiago's food scene seems to be in constant flux -- constantly expanding, that is. I can't wait to see how it's blossomed even more the next time I return to Santiago...

SANTIAGO SPOTS

Hotel Plaza El Bosque Ebro
Ebro 2828, Las Condes
+56 2.2498.1800
www.plazaelbosque.cl/ebro/index.php

W Santiago
Isidora Goyenechea 3000, Las Condes
www.whotels.com
Modern luxe hotel with a fabulous rooftop pool


Castillo Rojo
Calle Constitucion 195, Providencia
+56 2 2352 4500
www.castillorojohotel.com


Puerto Fuy
Avenida Nueva Costanera 3969, Vitacura
+56 2.208.8908
www.puertofuy.cl

La Mar
Avenida Nueva Costanera 3922, Vitacura
+56 2.206.7839

Tiramisu'
Avenida Isidora Goyenechea 3141
+56 2.519.4900
www.tiramisu.cl

Como Agua Para Chocolate
Constitucion 88, Bellavista
Santiago 
+ 56 2.2777.8740
www.comoaguaparachocolate.cl 

Emporio La Rosa
Ave. Las Torres 1424, El Rosal
+56 2.2280.4100
www.emporiolarosa.com

Bar Berri
Rosal 321, Lastarria
+56 2.6384734

Flannery's
Encomenderos 83, Las Condes
Total expat bar.

La Chascona
Fernando Marquez de la Plate 0192, Bellavista
+56 2 777.8741
www.fundacionneruda.org
This is the Pablo Neruda house in Santiago, which, like his other 2 houses in Chile (in Isla Negra and Valparaiso), is now a museum.



Mercado Central
Ismael Vlades Vergara 900, Parque Forestal
www.mercadocentral.cl
Lots of restaurants on the perimeter of the market from which to choose.

Pueblito Los Domincos Market
Av. Apoquindo 9085, Las Condes
www.pueblitolosdominicos.com
Open Daily 10-8
Great shopping for souvenirs, Andean wools, copper ware, and jewelry.

Patio Bellavista
Constitucion 30, Bellavista
Open 10 am - 10 pm daily
A collection of shops and restaurants and bars built around a central plaza. There are scheduled performances and cultural exhibitions as well as a boutique hotel, Hotel del Patio. 

FOOD PORN: A Look Back at 2014 (Catering Edition)

Spicy steak tartare on baguette crisps with cornichon

The last month of the year is always (thankfully) an extremely hectic, busy time for chefs and caterers. 2014 was no exception for me, and as a result, my blogging suffered. As in, I haven't posted on here since before Thanksgiving. My apologies. 

So here, now, I thought I'd start the new year off with something different than what's currently clogging your inbox. I'll hold off on the healthy eating and new year resolution diets and cabbage soup recipes to reflect on some of the lovely, tasty tidbits and creations I made over the past year. This is a multi-part posting under a new Blu Aubergine blog category I'm calling FOOD PORN. It's simply handsome photos of drool-worthy dishes -- trolling for culinary salivary stimulation. And I'm unapologetic.

Here are some catering goodies from 2014... 

Baked brie en croute with honey, nuts, and dried fruits

Deviled eggs with candied ancho chile bacon

 

Herbed ricotta crostini with prosciutto and apple

Homemade gravlax rosettes on endive leaves with horseradish cream

Crab and avocado salad cuplets

Ricotta crostini with cranberry honey and rosemary

Israeli couscous with pistou and veggies + lentil and goat cheese salad

Buckwheat blini with caviar and creme fraiche

Cheese plate with persimmon and pear, ginger and apricot jams

Grilled swordfish steaks over fregola sarda with zucchini

Caprese with burrata and haricot verts

Roasted chilean sea bass crostini with romesco, prosciutto, + scallion

Sweet potato latke with chipotle sour cream and wasabi caviar

Meringue kisses with pomegranate cream

RESTAURANT REVIEW: Messa and Raphael, Tel Aviv

In many ways, they're like day and night. Raphael is a refined, airy space overlooking the sea with a dining room recently updated to be more streamlined and casual -- and the food is fresh, unfussy Mediterranean fare executed with perfect technique: classic. Messa is a funky, sophisticated boite where the food dazzles as much as the room -- whitewashed and oversized and communal in the dining room, and all black and sleek and hip in the bar-lounge area. In this comparison, Raphael is day, and Messa is most definitely the night. But while the chefs' aesthetics and cooking styles may differ, and the dining rooms of the two spots have very different feels to them, Raphael and Messa share an expert approach to redefining what Mediterranean and Israeli food is, and can be. In this, both restaurants move Israeli cuisine forward, and front and center on the world stage. Indeed, SAVEUR magazine just named Tel Aviv as one of the world's top dining destinations. It's about time they caught on -- though honestly, I'd prefer to keep this little culinary gem between us!

Let's start with Chef Raffi Cohen's delicious, pared-down cuisine at Raphael. Cohen has worked in top kitchens around the world, including l'Arpege in Paris, Nobu in NYC, and with Marco Pierre White in London. He honed his craft at the restaurant at the King David Hotel in Jerusalem at the ripe old age of 23. And he credits much of his formative cooking chops to his Moroccan grandmother, from whom he draws his North African and French culinary influences. He's a Jerusalem boy, but since 2001, Cohen has been running Raphael in Tel Aviv, and the urban hub is the better for it. The dining room as had a makeover in recent years, and it's a lighter, brighter place to eat. Linens have been replaced with wood tables and cream-colored mod leather chairs. Overhead drop lights have replaced linen-covered oversized ceiling lamps, and the overall feel is cool, almost Scandinavian. The giveaway as to your actual location is in the view overlooking Tel Aviv's famous beachfront.

Raphael offers an interesting menu of that Sephardic French/North African-influenced food of Cohen's youth, mixed with some Ashkenazi Jewish staples. All of these dishes are elevated versions of classic home cooking, or they're whittled down to a simpler, cleaner version of a complicated, ingredient-heavy recipe. The stuffed cabbage appetizer is a trio of a taste bomb on a sauce of labneh (fresh, tangy yogurt-like cheese) infused with dill. The cabbage rolls were cold, stuffed with a bulgar wheat falvored with herbs, raisins, pine nuts, and black olives, and was perfectly sweet-and-sour. Normally, stuffed cabbage is a heavy dish, a meal in itself. These mini versions were a wonderful light appetizer and just what the doctor ordered on an unusually stormy afternoon in January.

A warm salad of barely-sauteed calamari was tossed with red and golden tomatoes and peppers, red onion, fruity olive oil, and white beans, and was as bright and fresh and delicious as the photo makes it seem. Fresh mint brought the dish from excellent to superb. These offerings were first courses in what is a very economical "business lunch," as it's dubbed in this city: a prix fixe, usually three-course lunch for a great price. You don't have to be talking shop to enjoy the Restaurant Week-style menu offerings, however. And the menus are simple abbreviated versions of dishes from the a la carte menus, so you can often try the restaurant's most renowned dishes, usually for around $35 or so, all in.

To best explain why I love Raphael, let me describe my first experience with it. It was 2011, and the dining room back then had a muted elegance to it. The lights were dim, I managed to get a last-minute 10 pm reservation, and it was the first place I headed once I'd checked into my hotel a few doors down. I remember the bread served was incredibly delicious and restorative, just what I needed at the time. I was coming to Tel Aviv, and back to Israel, after a 13 year hiatus, taking some time to myself after the roughest year of my life, personally. It was also the first time I'd ever vacationed completely by myself. I found Raphael to be an elegant enclave where I sat, dined, and just thought, in silence. I scribbled some notes in a small notebook I'd brought with me from Rome, feeling slightly self-conscious about sitting at a two-top alone. Maybe they'd think I was working as a restaurant critic (only partly true), as long as they didn't ask me questions. I ate lots of that bread and started the meal with a delicious fish carpaccio of some kind, with a lovely Israeli white wine (lovely white wine is a recurring theme in my Israeli dining experiences). But it was the main course that sticks in my mind. It remains there because it was so simple: Mediterranean cuisine, steps from the Mediterranean itself.

The sauce hit all the right fresh, briny, acidic notes, comprised of olives, tomato, capers, parsley and mint, over a perfectly-cooked piece of local drumfish. Eating it, I knew exactly where I was. That time, there was a bit of okra in the mix -- a vegetable, I came to discover, that Israelis use quite frequently in their cooking. When I ordered the same dish a year and a half later, it was almost exactly the same, but without the okra. It was still perfectly cooked. And it came with the same side of buttery, creamy potato puree' that should be set forth as an example of how potato purees are to be made now and forever after for all time. Seriously. Those were some transformative potatoes! But beyond transformative, they were utter comfort. This food to me, especially on that balmy July evening, was a virtual, warm, engulfing Mediterranean hug when I really needed it.

It's a taste memory that I've kept in my mind and on my palate ever since, and I've tried to reproduce that meal for clients to enjoy back in New York, 6,000 miles from where it changed me, just a little bit, years ago. 

Messa is one of my favorite restaurants I've ever experienced, and I've eaten all over the world. When I say "experienced," that's what I mean: it's an upscale restaurant, to be sure, with delicious and inventive food. But its neighboring bar (where you can eat as well, though I think it's best for drinks) completes the "package" and allows you to spend an evening in the Messa environs without needing to go elsewhere. The setting is sleek and gorgeous. It's not wholly original -- I've eaten, or lodged, in some similar environments, with Schrager spots like the Modrian in L.A. and Asia de Cuba coming immediately to mind. But these count among some of my favorite places to frequent over the years, as well (let's all take a moment to bemoan the closure of Asia de Cuba in the Morgans Hotel in NYC: end of an era!). There is something to be said for a setting in which you actually feel more beautiful. Everyone and everything around you oozes sexiness.

The main restaurant is part communal table lined with tall white bar stools, part series of dining nooks separated by curtains and oversize modern-baroque chairs that resemble thrones (this shouts out anyone can be king or queen for the length of a meal!). It is all a whitewashed affair with gossamer draping and candelabras, and everything is just-right. The lighting is flattering. The rooms are comfortable and spacious. The music is at the ideal volume and sets the mood perfectly. The restaurant is staffed by servers who know the menu and its chef inside and out, who have a grasp of Israeli and New and Old World wines, are warm and friendly and helpful, and also happen to look like they could do double-duty as runway models on their off nights.  

And then, of course, there's the food. The restaurant's style could be dubbed Luxe Levantine, and it's an interesting mix of Middle Eastern, Sephardic, classic French, and Mediterranean culinary influences that comprise what has become "New Israeli" cuisine. Chef Aviv Moshe is an autodidact of Kurdish ancestry who was born in Jerusalem 40 years ago. He started his on-the-job training at Chateau Ein Karem in his home city in '92, which explains the French/Provencal flourishes in his dishes. Like Cohen, he is heavily influenced by his grandmother's cooking, which is also North African. With her, Moshe was able to see how to utilize exotic spices and blends and apply them to cooking with local staples like eggplant, tahini, pomegranate, and labane (a yogurt-like cheese).

Moshe and three partners debuted Messa with the ambition to redefine what new Israeli cuisine -- and an amazing dining experience could be in Tel Aviv -- a decade ago now. It's been one of the focal points of fine dining in this beachside city ever since, attracting an eclectic client base, from Paul Anka to Lady Gaga, Rudy Giuliani to Roberto Cavalli.

At Messa, the menu is fairly large, which can often be an indicator that what comes out of the kitchen is unfocused, hit-or-miss. But not here, not from what I've seen. The dishes are original, the flavor pairings often unique, the technique accomplished. And the service and presentation are typically flawless. I ordered a foie gras appetizer which was seared to caramelized and served with a Valhrona white chocolate-vanilla bean sauce (not as strange as it may sound: foie and sweet flavors pair well together), with hits of lemon and balsamic, paired with a vodka-based lemon shooter of some kind. Odd at first, but anything that pairs one of my favorite rich foods with one of my favorite brisk alcohols to cut the richness of the liver -- well, it's alright with me. Plus, it's fun! It was a lighthearted approach and presentation to a dish too often mired in the seriousness of its rich history and taste. 

My friend Jessica ordered an app on special that evening, which was an interesting take on all of the countless versions we see of beets with goat cheese. The beets were half way to pickled (beets in Israel are a very common accompaniment to salads and sandwiches, so seeing them pickled or made into a slaw is familiar to locals), and the goat cheese was not a soft, crumbling affair but a nice, solid slice of an aged chevre, placed atop the beet salad with herbs. Simple and lovely.

And I'd be remiss in covering the many gorgeous offerings for appetizers if I didn't mention at least one of the seafood apps. There was a delectable barely-seared tuna dish, basically sashimi, with an eggplant roll, mushrooms, and chevre cheese in a pomegranate broth: delicious. Now that dish has become the tuna served with "raw shakshuka" and a six minute egg, which sounds wonderful. And there's a gorgeous raw yellowtail starter with sumac-dusted onions, caramelized eggplant and wasabi sorbet. You can't have a restaurant of international acclaim, these days, without some nod to Japan and its sushi culture. And that's fine with me, especially when the seafood you have to work with is as fresh and delicious as it is in Israel.

For second courses, we had an equally-difficult time deciding what to try, but Jess went for the classic Moroccan style fish with homemade couscous (here, the grandmother's North African influence in full bloom). The broth of the fish stew was thick and bright red with harissa paste and tomatoes, a contrast to the pale, fluffy couscous beside it. It was as delicious as you might expect. Paul stuck to seafood and chose a light sea bass dish with shallot ravioli and porcini foam, which was beautiful and light, but very savory.

I went for something a little more substantial with the veal cheeks. These were served with root vegetables and crispy gnocchi with a sweet spice broth. This dish was as rich and hearty as it sounds, but it was a cool, rainy night outside, we were settled in here at Messa, nothing to do but enjoy our time between now and the end of the evening when we'd climb into a taxi and head home. So yes, foie gras and veal cheeks made sense at the time. Dessert was equally as rich, a study in dark, milk, and white chocolate of varying degrees of temperature and consistency (oh, that all studying and degrees were chocolate-based!). It didn't photograph well, but trust me when I say it went down easily.

The amazing thing about a place like this one is that once dinner and its accompanying prosecco are over with, you can hop down out of your incredibly comfortable chairs or bar stools, head through a pair of double-glazed, curtained glass doors, and enter into the bar part of Messa. And it's a shock to the senses, in the best possible way. It's completely black: the walls, the chairs, the tables, the napkins.

The bar is a deep gray-brown marble and the lighting is quite dim with a few spotlights and bedside table-style lamps on the bar for illumination. The central bar is long and rectangular, and there are cushy cocktail tables and banquettes along the perimeter. And oh yeah, there's a trippy blue-black film projected on the far wall, with images of people's heads morphing into each other. There is a window that looks onto the white dining room, for contrast, but overall the feeling of the place is dark exotic drinking den. And the bartenders are, as most Israelis, quite friendly but can keep their space from you when wanted. They have a great cocktail list that features Israeli-friendly ingredients. I had a vodka cocktail with citrus, pomegranate, and mint which was divine...so I had another. Ostensibly, you could start your evening with a pre-dinner drink here, dine in the white room, and come back here for post-prandial cocktails, and you will have passed a very happy portion of your day here. Like I said at the beginning, Messa is an experience.

Raphael

87 Ha-Yarkon (King David Tower)

Tel Aviv, Israel

Phone +972 3.522.6464

www.raphaeltlv.co.il

Messa

19 HaArba'a Street

Tel Aviv, Israel

+972 3.685.6859

www.messa.co.il

RECIPE BY REQUEST: Cumin-Herb Grilled Lamb Chops

Occasionally I will post some photos online of a dish I've made, either for clients or for myself, that elicit responses on social media, from likes to Yum! to looks delicious to Please post a recipe for this dish, my mouth is watering! It is for this last response that I am starting a new series on my blog called "Recipe By Request" -- and I'm happy to announce that the first in this series is here.

I made this dish for some of my very best clients, this summer out in the Hamptons. It was a balmy evening, and the grill was calling to me (not hard to hear, considering how massive the grill was at the house!). I was in the mood for some savory Mediterranean cooking, so I made a series of dishes that paired grilled meats with cooling salads. The dish here -- lamb chops with a North African touch -- I served over a salad that tosses together parsley (I love using this herb like a salad green. It's so palate-cleansing and bright.) with sliced red onions, chick peas, and pomegranate arils. This salad would be at home in Morocco, but equally at home in Andalusia, Spain, or Italy, Provence, or Israel. I think it pairs really well with the smokiness and warm spices on the lamb chops, and matches the herbal notes in the rub as well. Tying everything together is a great-quality extra-virgin olive oil. 

You don't have to grill these chops to make them at home -- you can use a grill pan or even just sear them in a hot frying pan (cast iron would be best), or even bake them. The important thing is to play with them, mix and match the ingredients in here to your personal taste. I guarantee you this dish, however modified, pared-down or amped-up, will be a favorite player in your arsenal of deceptively easy, flavorful dishes.

Cumin and Herb-Spiced Lamb Chops
Serves 8 people

With lamb chops, especially if they're being grilled, it's best to leave the fat on the bone instead of trimming it. This keeps the meat moist while cooking and adds flavor. 

INGREDIENTS
2 medium onions, peeled, quartered
3 cloves garlic, peeled
1 cup fresh cilantro leaves with clean, tender stems
1 cup fresh flat-leaf parsley leaves with clean, tender stems
1 cup fresh mint leaves
1 tablespoon ground cumin
1 teaspoon smoked paprika
1 small chili pepper with seeds (anything from jalapeno to bird's eye Thai chili), roughly chopped
1 teaspoon ras-el-hanout (North African spice mix)
Kosher salt
24 untrimmed lamb rib chops (approximately 5 pounds)
Olive oil

PREPARATION
- Place onions, garlic, cilantro, parsley, mint, cumin, paprika, chili pepper, ras-el-hanout, salt, pepper, and olive oil in a food processor until very finely chopped. This should make a flavor paste that is thick but easily spreadable.
- Place lamb in a large dish and rub with spice and herb mixture. Cover and chill at least 2 hours.
- One hour before cooking, take the marinating lamb chops out of the fridge and bring to room temperature.
- Prepare grill for medium-high heat and oil grate. 
- Grill lamb to desired doneness, about 3 minutes per side for medium-rare. Let rest at least 5 minutes before serving.

*Can be served with a salad of flat-leaf parsley, chick peas, sliced red onion, and pomegranate arils. Toss with extra-virgin olive oil and salt and line a platter with the salad. Place the lamb chops on top and it's a real show-stopper of a presentation!


NOTE: Lamb can be marinated 12 hours ahead. Keep chilled.

QUICK BITE: Suppli' and Demand

When asked by Americans why most Italians are thin, despite their seemingly incessant carbo-loading and indulging in 4-hour marathon dinners, I usually respond thusly: "Italians don't snack." And while this is mostly true, they do have their fair share of snack-like substances -- small bites and appetite whet-ers that certainly entice, if not so much in between meals as at the start of them. But Romans, oh, the Romans! They, of course, have a few exceptions. Roman pizza al taglio, or by the slice, makes a nice snack at any time -- particularly pizza rossa: red pizza, the thin crust barely slicked with tomato sauce, olive oil, and sea salt. Gelato counts as something Italians eat not only for dessert, but also mid-day, around 5 or 6 p.m., still several hours before dinner but not quite aperitivo hour. And then there are SUPPLI'.

Not to be confused with arancini, which are the sometimes-stuffed risotto balls of Sicilian origin, suppli' are an entirely Roman invention, something that harks back to the Eternal City's now-defunct friggitorie (little shops or stalls specializing in fried foods). Today you can find suppli' in pretty much any Roman pizzeria, whether it's a pizza al taglio shop or a sit-down pizzeria that only fires up its wood-burning oven for dinner. It's become tradition in Rome to have frittibefore the pizza, and so you can witness happy Romans all over the city tucking into little plates of various fried items (more on those in another post), including suppli'. 

The version in Rome was supposedly originally made with risotto and a meat ragu', but now the typical suppli' is made with risotto and tomato sauce, with a bocconcino ("small mouthful": a tiny ball) of mozzarella in the middle. This is the surprise -- suppli' as a name, curiously, comes from the French word for surprise -- in the middle. The mozzarella melts when the rice ball is dipped in egg, coated in bread crumbs, and deep fried. When you break the suppli' in half, the melted mozzarella forms a string that stretches and looks like a telephone wire, hence its full name: suppli' al telefono.

Now, you can find these delicious delicacies at any decent Roman pizzeria, as stated earlier. But arguably the best spot for them is at a place technically called "Sisini La Casa del Suppli'," known simply as I Suppli', in Rome's Trastevere neighborhood. There are no chairs in this little buco (hole in the wall). There are now 2 tall tables at which you may stand and eat your suppli' or your pizza. This is no-frills. But it's absolutely delicious, and downright cheap. Their pizza al taglio at I Suppli' is justly famous around the city. Of course, they make several pizzas with interesting toppings and their pizza with potatoes and rosemary is among the best, though I go strictly for their margherita pizza.

They don't always have some at the ready, so if I don't see any I'll ask when the next pizza -- a huge rectangular slab of hot, crispy, chewy dough bathed in tomato sauce and more mozzarella cheese than I generally prefer, but here, I say bring it on! -- will be sfornata, or taken out of the oven. (Side note: one little reason I love the Italian language? Sfornata literally means 'un-ovened.' The "s" before an already-existing word often makes the word a negative or opposing version of itself. How cool is that?).

Anyway, the margherita pizza is great, and I always get enough to fold over like a sandwich and eat it while strolling the neighborhood. 

The rotisserie chicken at I Suppli' is delicious as well, perfuming the surrounding streets of the zona, and worth considering for a convenient dinner option along with some oven-roasted potatoes and sauteed cicoria greens. But really, the name above the door says it all. It's I Suppli, so that's what you have to try, without fail, when you make the trip here. They're plenty good at room temp, and Romans are happy to eat most foods at this moderate temperature. But they're another experience when piping hot.

Ask them to warm it up for you, if you don't catch a batch fresh out of the fryer. This way, you get the full experience of the melted mozzarella "surprise" in the middle, and to my mind, the full taste experience. You may have to wait a few minutes for it. You will most likely have to wait in line for it. But, good things come to those who wait, and this is never more true than when you're waiting for some delicious bite of food in Italy, vero? 

And a little tip: if you're headed there at lunch or dinner time, try to get there on the early side. They do sometimes run out, demand for suppli' (haha) being what it is at mealtime. Buon suppli'!

I SUPPLI' (SISINI LA CASA DEL SUPPLI')

Via San Francesco a Ripa 137

Trastevere

00153 Roma, ITALY

+39 06 589 7110

BOOKS: Massimo Bottura in-person & Never Trust a Skinny Italian Chef

Massimo Bottura is, for a chef who trained, lived, and worked in Italy for many years, like I did -- well, he's a deity. But for me, it's not just because he's a three Michelin star chef, with a CV that includes time working with Ferran Adria' and Alain Ducasse. And it's not because he hangs around with the current culinary hipsters like Rene Redzepi, or Wylie Dufresne and David Chang (both of whom were at the 92nd Street Y event I attended last week: Dufresne in the discussion with Bottura, and Chang in the audience, serving up some friendly heckling). For me, it's more of a big-picture thing. By that I mean that he's an excellent, creative chef who intellectualizes food but is also quite playful. He knows the parameters within which he's working (conservative, traditionalist food culture in Modena, Italy), and he pushes the limits to make these traditionalists reconsider what he's doing with Italian food. He's not the first or only chef to work this way, but he's among the very few who do it well, and successfully. He's also greatly inspired by art in its many forms, and is a great collector of modern art. Hell, he's argued his cooking philosophy with Bob Dylan. In some ways, he's the culinary counterpart to his buddy Maurizio Cattelan -- playful, sometimes cynical, counter-cultural, he strives to change what you think you know about his artistic medium (in this case, food). Bottura even titles his dishes, as if they're opuses -- and indeed they are: edible art.

Take, for example, his "Bollito Not Boiled," which is what he created after much thoughtful consideration of the traditional (northern) Italian dish, bollito misto, which originated in the area of his home town. This is normally a series of different boiled parts of the cow, often including tongue and other "off cuts," served with the broth and a salsa verde (green sauce) and sometimes a number of other condiments like mostarde and various piquant potions. When it's good, it's really good, and when it's not done well, it can be...off-putting, to say the least. But though it made sense centuries ago, economically, to boil meat to get the broth and extend the food for several meals this way, today it's often on menus as a matter of keeping tradition alive. Bottura wanted to challenge this. He'd worked in New York City for a time, and his wife is from New York, so he recreated this most traditional of Italian dishes as an ode to the time he spent in the city's Central Park. So. He takes various cuts of meat and cooks them sous vide to elicit the most flavor and best texture from the meats. He shapes these like little skyscrapers, placing them on the plate with a salsa verde (green sauce) foam for the trees, and a peperonata lawn with little anchovy people on it. It's cute and quirky and sticks to the core flavors of the dish while turning it on its head. He explained this all to us, an audience filled with New Yorkers, and his love of and enthusiasm for this city was clear.

I was lucky enough to meet Bottura in person and have him sign my copy of his book -- in Italian. He was very sweet and laughing and enjoying everything the whole time, which was really refreshing -- especially since he's on a mega book tour, and he's been running around for weeks like a crazy person, with engagements all over New York (cooking with other top chefs from Italy and the U.S. for Eataly NYC's

Identità Golose).

His book, Never Trust a Skinny Italian Chef, is filled with anecdotes about his most famous dishes, and the thought process and technical work that goes into them. It's not a cookbook in the traditional sense. And while I own many cookbooks, I don't read them for their recipes or accuracy in measuring out ingredients, and I don't recommend cookbooks based on these criteria. But I rarely follow recipes. Instead, I look to cookbooks for inspiration, for interesting ingredient pairings, for general procedures if there's some new dish or cooking method I'm trying out. I peruse the stories behind the food, the history of dishes in cultures about which I'm curious, places maybe I've recently visited or am longing to explore. And then I create, based on this information, co-opting it for my purposes, re-working a point of something I found of interest in a recipe or a food story. I realize I am not your average home cook, so if you're looking for practical recipes and time-tested accuracy, look to Mark Bittman or Julia Child, or Nigel Slater, all of whom are fabulous in their own ways. But if you're excited, like I am, to take a peek into the mind of a creative genius, then Bottura's book may interest you. There are recipes in the back for everything, but that's almost besides the point.

I'm loving it so far, though I have more to go. And I am looking forward to devouring some of his iconic dishes on my next Italian sojourn, when I will, per forza, eat in his amazing Trattoria Francescana in Modena. My stomach is already grumbling...

SEASONAL FOODS: All things Orange

It's October -- a lovely month, my birthday month, probably my favorite month of the year. The weather has cooled off from the steamy days of summer, but it's still great weather for walking and exploring the city (or country!). I correlate October with other "O" words, especially ORANGE. When I think of this month and the real beginning of autumn, I think of orange leaves, sunsets, sweaters, brilliant flaming fires in the fireplace, and above all else, delicious orange food. What does orange food offer?

Besides a great variety of delicious fruits and vegetables, many of them seasonal to autumn, orange foods boast carotenoids, which are fat-soluble nutrients that produce the orange, bright yellow, or red color in the foods that contain them. The best known carotenoid is beta carotene, which our bodies convert to Vitamin A when it enters our bloodstream. Orange foods are, on the whole, anti-inflammatory and full of nutrients that fight aging and skin issues, they help sharpen our vision, they aid in weight loss with a high fiber and low caloric content, and often help our digestive and immune systems. They help fight cancers and cardiovascular disease and basically amp up our systems to work at their most efficient. 

Trips to the farm stand this time of year are wonderful: this is when harvests are at their most bountiful, and a stroll through a well-stocked farmer's market provides a sensory explosion (more on this later in my seasonal "MARKETS" blog post). October offers a vast variety of orange and orange-tinged foods, many of which are outlined for you below, along with their key nutritional benefits, and some ideas on dishes to prepare with the excellent orange primary ingredients...

Carrots: Rich in vitamin A, they help ward off various types of cancer, they prevent macular degeneration, slow down cellular aging, and keep skin clear. I love roasting whole baby carrots, tossing them with olive oil and balsamic vinegar or pomegranate molasses and some sea salt, and baking them at 400 degrees until charred on the outside.

Papaya: This fruit is known for the wonders it works on digestive health, and serves as an immunity booster. It also contains digestive enzymes that make all food go down a lot easier. Try it out of hand, or in fruit smoothies. Green papayas are great in Thai salads, though they don't share the same healthful properties as regular papayas.

Butternut squash: This dense, orange squash is high in fiber and potassium, and helps build and preserve bone strength. It's incredibly versatile, and little do most people know, but the canned "pumpkin" sold across America for pumpkin pie? It's really a butternut squash puree. You can oven roast the peeled pieces of the squash for a homemade puree for baking if you're a DIY-type. Or use the roasted butternut in salads with vegetables, grains, and fruits.

You can whip the roasted squash in a food processor to make a topping for crostini, as in the photo here, where I've made many of my clients' fall favorite: butternut squash crostini with crispy pancetta, parmigiano, and sage. You can also boil the peeled butternut squash with some veggie stock until it's soft, and then use an immersion blender to turn it into a healthy and nutritious soup -- no cream needed.

Pumpkin: There are many varieties found across America and Europe, but the typical pumpkin that's good for eating is on the small side and is more squat than round, or cylindrical like the butternut squash. Pumpkin keeps your eyesight sharp, aids in weight loss, and its seeds protect us from heart disease - -and they're a delicious snack when roasted. One of my favorite dishes of the season is pumpkin ravioli (which can also be made with butternut squash), with the roasted puree filling hand-made fresh pasta dough. I cook them simply with a butter and sage sauce, and top with either parmigiano and toasted hazelnuts, or with a crumbling of amaretti cookies to bring out the sweetness of the pumpkin.

And speaking of sweetness, pumpkin sweets are a fabulous way to make desserts a tad healthier in the autumn months. Menus all over are stuffed with pumpkin donuts, pumpkin spice cupcakes and layer cakes, pumpkin panna cotta, and one of my personal favorites, pumpkin cheesecake. The photo at right is dressed with a cinnamon sour cream topping, candied rosemary, sugared pepitas (shelled pumpkin seeds), and pumpkin seed brittle.

Sweet potatoes: These tubers are rich in Vitamin A, which is anti-inflammatory and keeps skin clear. Roasted in the oven is a great, simple way to have them, and peeled and fried is a healthier alternative to french fries. But I love them peeled, grated, and turned into sweet potato latkes. Perhaps it's the innate Jewish mother in me, but I think these savory little pancakes are delicious, especially as I serve them at cocktail parties, with a chipotle sour cream and topped with wasabi caviar. They certainly lend themselves to sweet iterations -- hold the onions in the latke prep, and add a dash of cinnamon instead. Top with homemade apple sauce or pear butter.

Cantaloupe: Though this is mostly a summer melon, you can still find it into the fall. It's high in vitamins A and C, and in beta carotene. It's great on its own, blended as a cold soup, or sliced and wrapped in some prosciutto for a light lunch.

Apricots: These are also mostly a summer stone fruit, but you can sometimes find them into the autumn months, and you can certainly find them dried throughout the year (though obviously sugar content rises in the dried version). This fruit is high in iron, fiber, and potassium. And they work really well both with sweet preparations and as a savory accompaniment to meat and poultry dishes.

I make crostini with ricotta, herbs, and fresh apricots. I use fresh or dried apricots in North African meat tagines and a dish I make that my parents flip for, a Moroccan chicken I make with apricots, almonds, chick peas, and North African spices over couscous. I also do a brined, grilled pork chop that's juicy enough to stand on its own, but it's brought up to another level when served over an apricot-red pepper sauce, brightened with citrus and vinegar and a pop of spice. I serve it all with wilted kale for a delicious meal in the summer or fall.

Golden beets: All beets are wonderfully healthy for us, but golden beets are particularly healthy (and beautiful!) and full of fiber and potassium, and they prevent constipation. Another plus: their color is lighter and stains less than the traditional magenta beets -- an added benefit if serving them in a "white tablecloth" setting. They can be roasted, blended into a soup (golden borscht!), or served sliced raw into a salad. They pair well with bitter greens like arugula, and their sweetness also pairs well with cheeses, from goat cheese to a potent blue cheese.

Guava: This tropical fruit is orangey-pink, and has high levels of lycopene, making the fruit heart healthy and anti-cancer, particularly effective in preventing prostate cancer. It's also high in potassium. This is great as a juice on its own or mixed into smoothies.

Mangoes: This fruit is high in beta carotene, and helps to prevent prostate and skin cancers. It's great, when ripe, to eat out of hand, or to serve sliced with some coconut rice pudding. The sorbet is actually a really healthy treat as far as desserts go, and you can find mango in fruit shakes and Indian lassis (kefir yogurt-fruit drinks), which do wonders for your intestinal tract and also supply probiotics to keep the good bacteria in your tummy in good health.

Turmeric: Though technically not a food you'd eat on its own, turmeric is a rhizome (like ginger) that seems to be the wonder-food of the year. Its anti-inflammatory properties are well-established, and it helps to prevent kidney and cardiovascular disease, arthritis, and irritable bowel syndrome. In its powder form, it's a part of most curry mixes, and it's sometimes dubbed "poor man's saffron" because it lends its bright orange-yellow color to dishes like rice and stews where saffron is too costly. But it's also great used like ginger as a flavor base for meat and fish stews, soups...even juiced with some apples, lemon, and ginger to make a great post-workout replenishing drink. 

And of course, in speaking about orange foods, I'd be remiss not to name the one food actually named for its color: the orange. Fall is not prime season for this citrus fruit, but drinking a glass of orange juice has become how so many Americans start their days, and it is very versatile, especially when its season rolls around in early winter. It doesn't have the A-vitamins many orange foods have, but it's quite high in Vitamin C and folate, so it's great to incorporate into the diet of women who are expecting, or hoping to expect in the near future. You can use orange zest to liven up dishes, its juice to cook into sauces and soups, as a stand-alone drink, or as part of a smoothie or even a cocktail. The possibilities are vast.

I know I'll be getting my fill of ORANGE FOODS this autumn, and happily so. October is the peak month for so many delicious food items that if we remember to eat in season, we'll be that much closer to eating a healthy, well-rounded diet. Just remember: O. October. Orange. It's simple. Get it while you can! 

ESCAPES: Puglia, ITALY, Part 1: The Salento -- Lecce area

I remember a couple of years ago, while strolling the streets of London, a bus drove past me plastered with an image of a sunny coastline and a voluptuous, bronzed, Latin-looking model in a bikini, with the word "Puglia" written in large letters at the top. I chuckled at the idea of the region of Puglia spending countless euros on an advertising campaign touting the charms of a region I would prefer remain a secret -- especially from the masses of tourists looking for, as it's often been deemed, "The Next Tuscany."

No. No, no, and no! First of all, Puglia is nothing like Tuscany. I love Tuscany, and I love Puglia, but they're more dissimilar than they are alike. Tuscany is rolling hills and vineyards and farm land for miles, all central Italian greenery and picturesque landscape. Puglia is a different beast, more ancient Greek than Renaissance chic, more arid-by-the-sea than lush fecundity. Where Tuscany has diminutive olive trees planted alongside its grape vines, the land in Puglia is covered with large, old olive trees with craggy, knotty trunks that look like they've been around for millennia (and they likely have). The land is mostly flat, and you're never very far from the sea, whether it's the Adriatic on the east coast, or the Ionian on the west (interior) coast. So much depends on the wind for the weather, and locals are acutely attuned to it. 

The locals, in fact, are a very interesting facet of daily life in Puglia. They are deeply entrenched in tradition, and speak a dialect closer to Greek than any recognizable Italian. They are reserved with strangers until they get to know you a bit, and then they treat you like family. They are religious and superstitious, they celebrate countless festivals and holidays. There is a sense of civic pride and the streets are clean. And though there is some organized crime here, they say it never really took hold in Puglia as in other regions in the south, because la gente parla: people talk, and so secrets can't be kept so well.

As for the local cuisine, much depends on the wild vegetation and aquatic resources of the "heel of the boot" -- where, incidentally, about 40% of Italy's olive oil is produced. And this oil is good. Very good. It's used to saute' vegetables and to make breads and pizzas. It's drizzled on pastas and seafood fresh from the turquoise waters of the nearby Mediterranean. It's stirred into soups and stews, and even churned into gelato. For the most part, this is cucina povera (cooking of the poor) at its most innovative. The local grains are turned into world-famous breads -- the "Pugliese" loaf is even hawked as far away as Citarella in the east end of Long Island. Even the burnt flour from the process of prepping wheat fields after the "good stuff" has been cultivated isn't wasted on the less fortunate here, who have traditionally turned this burnt grain ("grano arso") flour into a darker, chewier, slightly toasty-flavored pasta. As fate would have it, this has become the newest, dare I say 'hippest' pasta for in-the-know italophiles and restaurateurs, though it's still fairly hard to come by stateside. So take advantage if you see it on a menu in Puglia, and try it. 

LECCE

This Pugliese town is known, outside of Rome itself, as the capital of baroque in Italy. It's also the unofficial capital of the Salento. The local sandstone is soft and therefore more easily sculpted, and artists have taken advantage of this to create intricate, elaborate carvings in the architecture. The piazza del Duomo is a breathtaking example: accessed by a narrow entrance, you enter and as the piazza opens up, you're confronted with a cathedral (12th century), a palace (15th century), and a seminary (18th century) that seem to shine so brightly during the day that they reflect the sun, and at night, seem to glow from within. The basilica di Santa Croce is another baroque gem in Lecce's town center. 

Also of interest is the 2nd century A.D. Roman Amphitheater in piazza Sant'Oronzo -- subterranean and excavated in the 1930's to expose a perfect horseshoe amphitheater with seating for 15,000. In the photo here, it's set up for a summer concert series, a unique experience if you happen to be in town. The city itself is a small, elegant, lively, laid-back university town with boutiques, bars, and restaurants aplenty.

There are a few elegant hotels in the historic center from which you can explore the area. The Patria Palace Hotel is a well-located traditional upscale Italian albergo with gorgeous green Murano glass chandeliers and a fabulous rooftop terrace overlooking the Santa Croce basilica. The Risorgimento Resortis a more modern and stylish spot with a restaurant, wine bar, and rooftop garden. Airbnb also offers a number of great options in and around Lecce, for those travelers who want to feel at home in an apartment or B and B without the services of a 4- or 5-star hotel. These lodgings can be a great value, too.

As for food in Lecce? There are plenty of great options, mostly for food that tends toward the casalinga (housewife) style. It's homey, it's hearty (pasta with beans, potatoes, and mussels is a delicious local specialty, but an Atkins nightmare), and it's often vegetarian-friendly.

Both Alle Due Corti and Cucina Casareccia are restaurants that seem like a relative's home -- albeit a relative who's superb in the kitchen. Dishes like orecchiette (the Pugliese regional pasta, "little ears") with cime di rapa (turnip greens), and the vegetable dish of cicoria e fave (sauteed chicory greens and pureed fava beans) are classics of the area. 

Seafood tends to be prepared very simply, either crudo (raw) as in a tartare or carpaccio, or a simple local fish like sarago, cooked in a salt crust and filleted and served with local, top-quality olive oil. For breakfast, try the deservedly-famous pasticciotto leccese, a sort of mini-pie with an almond-flour crust and a creamy filling, ranging from almond cream to Nutella. 

BEYOND LECCE

The small towns surrounding Lecce (many of which have "Lecce" in their names), range from charming hamlets to antique ghost towns, and many are worth exploring. Getting out of the city of Lecce allows you to see the countryside of the Salento, and out to the beaches -- both the dramatic, rocky eastern coastline and the western, interior Ionian coastline and its sandy beaches. I recently traveled to the Salento to attend the wedding of some dear friends of mine in Muro Leccese. 

They rented a few houses next to each other for their guests arriving from all over Europe, North America, and the Middle East. The houses felt more like they were plucked from a Greek island, or from the medina in Morocco, mazes of limestone and white stucco, narrow hallways and staircases, lemon trees and creeping bougainvillea. The wedding itself was held at the nearby Botanical Gardens, La Cutura, in Giugianello (province of Lecce). This gorgeous former estate is home to the largest collection of succulents in Italy, and was a truly enchanted setting for the wedding, with dinner and dancing afterwards.

The following day, I prepared a brunch for about 100 guests in the kitchen of those rented villas -- a task that was challenging, fun, and something I couldn't have done without the incredible help of my (mostly) willing help (grazie a tutti quanti)! We served both local dishes (orecchiette with sausage and turnip greens) and dishes from elsewhere in Italy and overseas. It was a sweltering, mostly-sunny, collaborative, memorable afternoon with my trusty crew/amore/dear amici. And of course, the days leading up to that afternoon in prep -- many market trips, searching, inquiring, schlepping, organizing, cooking, more schlepping...a true authentic experience in the mezzogiorno!

And where did we come to rest our weary heads after a long day trekking around the Salento? I wouldn't stay just anywhere. I prefer the likes of Salindia Boutique Bed and Breakfast. It's extremely personal but you are still "hosted" in a Pugliese home. My lovely friends from Rome, Monica and Marcello, run Salindia ("Sal-" for Salento and "India" for Monica's Indian heritage). The married couple set up shop in Caprarica di Lecce, a small village of 2,000 inhabitants roughly 15 minutes south of Lecce. They found a run-down 17th century farmhouse (actually two, which they connected), saw the potential beauty there, and painstakingly refurbished this plot of land in the center of town, turning it into a little heavenly oasis within old stone walls.

Their eye for detail is exquisite, and they've managed to stay true to the local whitewashed Greco-Roman aesthetic while intermingling with Italian modern and antique Indian craft. And it works beautifully. There are engraved wood four-post beds draped with Indian silk in the bedroom suites (there are 2), modern bathrooms with deep glass bowl sinks and counters, and stone spa showers with rainfall shower heads. In the common spaces, there are poured cement floors and B+B Italia leather sofas juxtaposed with the original stone fireplaces from 1685, Indian wooden antiques, and colorful mirrored poufs.

There is an enclosed back garden for relaxing among the fruit trees and caper bushes, and in the front off of the modern dining room and kitchen, there's the enclosed cortile with a turquoise pool and plenty of space for soaking in the sun. All of this is just steps removed from one of the main streets of the town, though you'd never know it from the inside. And speaking of, you'll get some great insider's advice for things to do and see in and around the Salento, from Monica and Marcello. At the height of the summer season, there always seems to be a sagra, or festival, happening in one of the surrounding towns, or in Caprarica itself. And throughout the rest of the year, there are seasonal festivals and always lots of music of the Salento in the air -- the famous tarantella dance and the pizzica music that accompanies it. (More on this in my next Puglia post).

A note to travelers: renting a car is a must in Puglia to get around, unless you're planning on staying for only a few days in the center of Lecce. But that would be a shame. Rent a car, explore, see the coast, see the city, see the small towns and countryside. It's not Tuscany, it's different. It's Puglia. And it's still, for now, deliciously under-the-radar.

PATRIA PALACE HOTEL LECCE, www.patriapalacelecce.com

RISORGIMENTO RESORT, www.risorgimentoresort.it

SALINDIA Boutique Bed and Breakfast, Caprarica di Lecce. 

www.facebook.com/pages/Salindia-Boutique-BedBreakfast/607730372580032 

**

Alle Due Corti, Lecce. Via Prato 42. (0832) 24.22.23. www.alleduecorti.com

Cucina Casareccia, Lecce. Viale Costadura 19. (0832) 24.51.78

Botanical Gardens "La Cutura", www.lacutura.it

SEASONAL INGREDIENTS: Basil... + Pesto alla Genovese

Quick, hurry! Before summer is officially over in a few (not-really-that-short) days! For anyone who has grown her own basil this summer, whether in the back yard or on a windowsill or -- if she's lucky enough -- in her own lush, expansive, dedicated herb garden: it's pesto time.

Pesto, as a sauce, originates from the Italian verb pestare (to pound or crush), which gave rise to the word pestle, as in mortar-and-pestle -- the instruments originally used to make the sauce. In Italian cuisine, pesto refers to any sauce made with a mortar and pestle, and has myriad iterations. From the northwest coast of Liguria, and the city of Genova, where pesto alla Genovese originates, to the island of Sicily, where the local pesto is most often red (from tomatoes)...a pesto sauce can mean many things to many different people. Today we're focusing on the world's most famous pesto. Made with only a few top-quality ingredients, at their seasonal peak, pesto alla Genovese is the essence of Italian cooking in a simple condiment. 

The basil pesto made famous by the Genovese uses the local ingredient par excellence: basilico genovese, a DOP item (denominazione origine protetta -- meaning the origin and varietal of the basil is protected under Italian law. Meaning it's the good stuff, the real thing). This is crushed with garlic and European pine nuts, plus a little salt. This paste is made into a sauce with the addition of olive oil -- in Liguria, it's the golden, relatively mild and fruity variety made from local taggiasca olives. A grated cheese is added at the end, either parmigiano-reggiano or a pecorino or both.

The cheese you use will determine how salty the end result is, so waiting to add most of the salt until the end is advised. In Genova, this sauce is most commonly served with a local pasta called trofie, a twisted short pasta, and often tossed with boiled potatoes and green beans as well. Of course, the traditional way of making it with a mortar and pestle is the best way to appreciate the process -- but it's the modern day food processor that allows you to make the sauce in a snap.

With the abundant crops of basil throughout the late summer, now is the time to turn the beautiful anise-scented leaves into a perfectly summery sauce that freezes well and lasts for a month or two even in the fridge, as long as it's covered with a layer of olive oil to seal it off from the air. Spread on late summer heirloom tomatoes, this pesto adds the perfect touch to a light September lunch. You can toss it with pasta, serve it with grilled meats, spread it on tomatoes or drizzle it on top and bake the tomatoes. You can use it alone or mix it with mayonnaise for a great sandwich spread or dip. And you can even stir it into vegetable soups as the French in Provence do with their soupe au pistou. Any way you use it, pesto alla Genovese is a great way to use your late summer basil, and to keep enjoying it for months after summer officially ends.

Arrivederci, estate!

(Farewell, summer!)

PESTO ALLA GENOVESE

(8+ servings)

8 cups basil leaves, washed and dried

2 cloves garlic, peeled

1 cup toasted pine nuts

Approximately 1 cup extra-virgin olive oil, very good quality (from Liguria if possible)

½ cup grated parmigiano or pecorino cheese, or a mix of both

salt to taste

- In a food processor or blender, turn the switch to on and drop in the garlic clove so it is finely minced.

- Turn off the blender and remove the top, and add about half of the basil leaves. Return top and blend, adding about half of the olive oil. Now add half of the pine nuts. Add salt to taste.

- Continue this process, balancing the flavors until you reach the proper flavor and consistency you’d like. It can be a bit more liquid rather than thick, because you’ll be adding the parmigiano cheese which will thicken it a bit.

- Remove from food processor/blender and pour into a bowl. Stir in the parmigiano cheese.

- When adding to cooked pasta, mix the pesto with some of the pasta’s cooking water to thin. Use also as a sandwich spread. Keeps in the refrigerator for weeks: cover the sauce with a film of olive oil to seal it from air (this way, it won’t turn black). Wrap/cover tightly.

MARKETS: Mercato di Pesce in Catania, Sicily

It's a wild and memorable stop on any giro in the historic center of Catania, Sicily's southeastern city-on-the-sea, in the shadow of Mount Etna: the Mercato di Pesce, or fish market. It encompasses more than just fish, but the daily catch from local waters is really the star of the show here in the mercato. And what a show it is, every day!

Catania is Sicily's second-largest city, with 300,000 residents in the city proper and 1 million people in the metro area. Much of the city's beautiful architecture, like that of the surrounding Val di Noto, is barocco (baroque) -- ornate and expressive with detailed facades and embedded sculpture. Like its surrounding towns in the Noto Valley, Catania was rebuilt after the great earthquake of 1693, and so these towns were redesigned in the popular style of the era, which happened to be Sicilian baroque, disseminated from its origins in Rome. The fish market's fortunate positioning places its entrance just off the Piazza del Duomo, with the gorgeous pale grey-blue facade of its baroque church. The market has been in its current location since the beginning of the 19th century, when the galleria for the market was dug from the site of the historic center's 16th century city walls. 

Once you enter the market, all the tranquility and beauty you just witnessed in the Duomo and the nearby fountain turn to chaos and shouting, hawking and salesmanship and showmanship. That Sicily was once the provenance of the Arab world, (and its proximity to North Africa) can be felt here, viscerally. The mercato di pesce is part Italian market, part souk. The fishmongers are yelling pleas of "buy my fish, it's the best!" and "There is no fish fresher than mine!" and some say simply "Signora, signora, what can I offer you? Best price just for you!" On the whole, these fishmongers are selling more or less identical products. As you wade through the fish stalls (and I do mean wade: wearing wellies is a better idea than wearing sandals or flip-flops), the prices are more or less on par, so the only thing separating these stalls is the quality of the merchandise...and the marketing skills of the sellers. In the photo here, you see some of the most typical seafood for sale: anchovies and sardines, and shrimp of all sizes, including the delicate and delicious gambero rosso, or red shrimp from the Gulf of Catania, best eaten raw. There are triglie and branzino and orata (various Mediterranean white-fleshed fish), and calamari and octopus.

There is famously fresh tuna in these waters, much of which comes from the west and north coasts of Sicily, between the island and Calabria on the peninsula -- most of which either gets cooked and canned sott'olio (in oil) for Sicily's famous high quality preserved tuna fish, or sold to Japan, where its vertiginous prices are paid by the Japanese sushi and sashimi purchasers. But you can find it here, its flesh a fresh semi-translucent ruby red. And you can find its white-fleshed steakfish friend, pesce spada, or swordfish, all over Sicily. It's particularly good here. I purchased some for our dinner later that night, to be composed of entirely market-bought items. I also bought some beautiful whole calamari.

I was ecstatic to find neonati, teeny-tiny "just born" whitings that, grouped together by the hundreds, would make the base for polpetti -- little fish "meatballs." Other interesting items in the fish market include bottarga (salt-cured tuna roe) and ricci di mare, sea urchin. Such items are typical in these parts of southern Italy, and we'd been gorging ourselves on pasta with sea urchin and pasta with bottarga since we arrived down south a week earlier. So I went for something a little different. With my fish gathered and a menu coming together in my head, I passed by a few stalls in the fruit and vegetable part of the market, and then we were off for a swim in the sea just down the street from our apartment. And then, and only then...to cook!

What did I make at the end of the day? My take on various Sicilian specialties and flavors, using locally purchased ingredients, of course. I made those polpetti with neonati, bread crumbs, egg, herbs, and spices, and deep fried them. I took the gorgeous swordfish from the fish market and sliced the steaks as thin as possible, then stuffed them with an eggplant caponata (sweet-and-sour ratatouille) I made from market vegetables, and rolled that into involtini. I made a sort of salsa verde (green sauce) with basil, mint, and parsley from the herb plants on our apartment's terrace, and spread that on top of the oven-cooked swordfish.

And I took the calamari, cleaned them, and chopped the tentacles up and tossed them with bread crumbs, parmigiano cheese, seasoning, and lemon zest, and stuffed the calamari with this mixture. I baked those in the oven as well, and in the meantime made a spicy sauce from the gorgeous local pachino cherry tomatoes and basil and garlic from the market. I served that with the calamari, on the side. It was a memorable meal that we accompanied with a chilled Sicilian white wine from grapes grown in Mt. Etna's volcanic soil, and finished off with some local fresh figs and wild fragoline, tiny strawberries. I found everything we used, except for the bread crumbs and the raisins and pine nuts, at the mercato di pesce and surrounding vegetable market. That's what I call a local meal.

Cin-cin to Sicilia and her gorgeous culinary gifts!

Footnote: If you're not lucky enough to be staying in an apartment with a kitchen, or aren't much of a home cook, there are some terrific, highly-recommended restaurants within a stone's throw (and sometimes inside) of the fish market. Three of these are:
- Ambasciata del Mare
- Osteria Antica Mare
- Trattoria La Paglia

RESTAURANT REVIEW: Red Bar Brasserie, Southampton, NY

Sometimes I review restaurants that have recently opened or that offer something new to the dining public. But just as often, I like to write about a restaurant simply because it gets it right, and often it has been getting it right for many years now. Red Bar Brasserie in Southampton is one of those places that falls into the latter category. There's nothing earth-shattering here, no molecular gastronomy or $100-a-pound lobster salad to set tongues a-wagging. Simply put, this is and continues to be a restaurant where I want to eat. Where pretty much everything on the menu appeals, and it's almost certainly well-executed. And it's been open for almost 18 years -- which, in the seasonal setting of The Hamptons, means it must be doing something right, both with summer tourists and with locals. That alone is a feat worth celebrating.

Restaurateurs Kirk Basnight and David Loewenberg have created a dining room that works equally well for a group of friends having a social evening or for a couple enjoying a romantic candelit dinner together (again, not an easy line to straddle). Chef Erik Nodeland has created a menu featuring local produce, seafood, and meat whenever possible -- and the East End provides an ample bounty for those chefs looking for delicious primary ingredients. His dishes pair French and Mediterranean technique with an American sensibility, and the results are generally excellent.

Appetizers to try (though they do change seasonally) include a fluke crudo with avocado, cucumber, citrus, and chiles, as well as a similar-but-spicier Hawaiian poke (pronounced POE-kay) with avocados, cashews, a spicy sesame vinaigrette and plantain chips. For those interested in rich meats, the braised pork belly with pickled rhubarb, baby arugula, and ricotta salata is a nice option. Or go for broke and indulge in the foie gras terrine with candied kumquats, pistachios, and crostini. The signature main is a truffled chicken breast with mushroom risotto and french beans, though I rarely order chicken in a restaurant (I reserve that for home cooking), so I'm more likely to go for the duroc pork chop or a savory steak, of which there are several to choose from on the brasserie menu.

But since I'm out in eastern Long Island, I'm much more inclined to get a fish dish. Recent temptations include the miso-glazed local tilefish (I'm seeing a lot more tilefish on menus lately, and it's great eating) with spinach, leeks, shitake mushrooms and meyer lemon. Also of note is the striped bass (also local) with littleneck clams, chorizo, potatoes, tomatoes, fennel, and white wine. Of course, Long Island duck breast is always a good choice in these parts, and Red Bar always has it on the menu. Right now it's the seared breast with lentils du Puy, butternut squash, braised kale, and bing cherries. 

I liked the Asian-inflected version I had last year even better, with bok choy and a tamarind broth that made me want to lick the plate. As for desserts, interesting options are a fresh fig and frangipane tart with vanilla ice cream and raspberry sauce, or the toasted coconut and almond bread pudding with a mango-pineapple sauce. Or, you could go for the ever-so-retro Baked Alaska. There's something about the showmanship of that dessert that makes it a perfect restaurant dessert choice. It requires some great service in the dining room to pull it off properly, setting the whole orb alight with rum and fire. Red Bar Brasserie is more than capable of this, since their dining room service is generally welcoming and top-notch. This, along with interesting and well-executed dishes from the kitchen, makes Red Bar Brasserie what can now be considered a perennial Hamptons favorite, and one of my go-to spots "out east."

Red Bar Brasserie
210 Hampton Road
Southampton, NY  
(631) 283.0704
www.redbarbrasserie.com

RECIPE: Concia, a Roman Jewish tradition

Rome's Jewish ghetto, 2 pm. I'm starving and sweating in Rome's midday heat and humidity. I don't want pasta, or risotto, or even any secondo that is served warm. I want room temperature and cold dishes, and something refreshing and flavorful with an acid kick. I want concia (pronounced "CONE-cha"). 

What is this dish exactly? It's one of many examples of cooked vegetables marinated in an acid (in this case the vinegar) to preserve the vegetable. That it adds interesting depth of flavor may be just a happy coincidence: like many dishes of Jewish origin, this was cooked and then eaten a day or two later, on the sabbath, when observant Jews are not allowed to cook or do work of any kind. Concia, a dish specific to the Roman Jewish ghetto, may have originated in Rome. But it may have been brought there by Jews fleeing the Inquisition at the end of the 15th century in Spain. Many Spanish Jews fled to Italy, and brought with them an interesting array of foods previously unknown to Italian palates.

 That this dish so closely resembles the Neapolitan "scapece" may be another link among Jewish cooks: once Naples was conquered by the Spanish a decade or so after the Inquisition began, the Jews in Naples may have fled to Rome, where "scapece" became "concia." Indeed, "scapece" is incredibly similar in sound and spelling to the Spanish "escabeche," which is the identical culinary concept. 

But whether we have the Spanish or the Romans to thank for this dish, it's definitely got Jewish roots. And it's definitely delicious. Enjoy this cooling dish on a warm night throughout the summer months -- and pretend you're sitting on the sidewalk of a trattoria in Rome's beautiful Jewish ghetto...

CONCIA DI ZUCCHINE

Ingredients
*6 medium zucchine, about 2 pounds
*1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil
*6 medium cloves of garlic
*Half a bunch of mint, leaves pulled from the stems, and torn or sliced into a chiffonade {alternatives include flat leaf parsley and/or basil}
*2 teaspoons kosher salt
*Freshly ground black pepper to taste
*1/4 cup red wine or balsamic vinegar
*{freshly grilled bread, optional}


Directions
- Trim the zucchini at both ends and slice into discs or lengthwise strips about 1/8 - 1/4 inch thick
- Heat the olive oil in a pan, toss in 2 of the garlic cloves, and allow to infuse the oil for 30 seconds
- Throw in enough zucchini to cover the surface of the pan, but not so many that they overlap -- approximately 2 zucchini at a time. Salt and pepper to taste. Cook until golden brown. Repeat with the rest of the garlic and zucchini.
-  Once all the zucchini has been cooked, return it all to the pan to heat through. Add the vinegar and the mint, and stir to mix the flavors.
- Let sit for at least an hour and as much as one full day to allow the flavors to marry. Serve over grilled bread, if you like.

RESTAURANT REVIEW: Le Chateaubriand, Paris

"I know what I'm getting for dinner tomorrow night," professed my friend Kenny, then a 2-year resident of Paris. Then I had to explain to him that Le Chateaubriand is not, as the name might imply, some stuffy, starched-linen tablecloth, overpriced, old-school Parisian joint that specializes in its namesake hunk of beef. Not at all. When I told him that it's an experimental, prix-fixe modern bistro, headed by a young culinary wiz and autodidact, he rolled his eyes and said, "Oh no, a 'Drizzled Walnut'!" -- his term for any frilly restaurant that serves walnut-sized pieces of protein drizzled with a sauce that requires the waiter to invoke 4 verbs and 17 adjectives in describing it. "No, it's not like that," I reply. "You can wear jeans!" And so dinner, as they say, was on.

After enjoying aperitifs in a nearby cafe-bar, my 3 American, Paris-dwelling friends and I proceeded to Le Chateaubriand just after the designated 9:30 arrival time -- they take reservations up to their 8:30 seating, and it's a free-for-all from 9:30 onward. It was in line outside the restaurant that we met an American couple honeymooning in Paris, after hitting some traditional honeymoon hot spots in Italy. They, like many Americans, had seen the restaurant featured on the final season of Anthony Bourdain's food-travel show, "No Reservations." He and top toque Eric Ripert, of NYC's best seafood spot Le Bernardin, found Le Chaueaubriand's food to be exciting, fresh, and genial: high praise coming from as renowned a chef as Ripert, and as seasoned an eater as Bourdain. I suspect that episode fueled many a traveler like our Long Island honeymooners to show up in line here. And so we waited, but only for about 20 minutes: it turns out our group of 4 got seated more quickly than the several two-tops in line ahead of us. A happy circumstance. We were famished.

Le Chateaubriand offers a single prix-fixe meal each evening, and you can order wine and cocktails and beer by the glass, or go for the accompanying drinks menu -- which of course we selected -- for an additional 60 euros. I recommend this, not so much for value purposes (often times you get more bang for your buck by wisely selecting bottles from the wine list), but because here you get truly interesting pairings.

And it goes beyond wine to offer sparkling wine, cider, and beyond. Now, there are certainly repeat dishes that the chef puts on offer (to wit: his famous egg dessert. More on that later). But the menu is seasonal and changes with such frequency that you'd most likely be unable to order much of anything I'll describe here. This is more to give you a feel for power chef Inaki Aizpitarte's French cuisine that has been labeled "daring and challenging." I find it innovative, beautiful, often exhilarating, sometimes baffling...and the experience is a lot of fun, a memorable Parisian evening.

MENU

Amuse bouche:
-Liqueur de tomatoes L. Cazottes: This was a ceviche in fresh tomato and onion water with coriander flowers. Delicious and fresh.
Chambolle Musigny, 2010 (pinot noir) Bourgogne Fred Cossard

-Bonite de Saint Jean de Luz, fenouil, sauge: Bonito is a fish in the mackerel and tuna family, sort of a cross between the two. This one hailed from southwestern France, the Basque coast. Beautifully cooked to pink and covered in fennel, artichokes, baby carrot, and fried sage.

Anfora, 2007 (Vitobska) Venezia Giulia Vodopivec

We had a few off-menu courses that were tossed into the mix, gratis -- more like snacks, really. But these were some of the most delicious elements of the meal. They brought us a gorgeous little plate of teeny whole shrimp, shell intact and everything, which were dusted with a tamarind powder. These were lip-smackingly good -- an innovative take on peel-and-eat shrimp that left me wanting to devour several plates all by myself.
We also enjoyed an interim "salad" of sorts, which was a small, charcoal gray earthen bowl filled with a study in vibrant green. The flavors were vegetal but varying: tender early summer baby greens, sweet fresh peas (I am not a pea fan by any stretch, but these were raw and and sweet without the mealy starch I dislike), and sea asparagus or samphire, probably my favorite vegetable around.


- Barbue, sureau, beurre noisette: This is brill, a flat fish much like turbot, with elderflower, Japanese eggplant, and brown butter with sesame seeds. On the plate, it looks like a study in one-note pallor. The appearance belies the tremendous amount of flavor of the entire dish, not to mention the wonderful texture between the firm, flaky fish, the soft fleshy eggplant, the crunchy nuttiness of the sesame, and the floral sweetness of the elder. Unlike anything I've ever tasted.
Sous la Lune, 2012 (Grenache,carignan) Cote du Rhone Nicolas Renaud

- Ris de veau, pampelmousse de Corse, tournesol: These were delicious and delicate sweetbreads on a bruleed grapefruit, with sunflower and long, elegant baby onions.

Cumieres (Chardonnay, pinot noir, pinot menier) Champagne 1st Cru George Laval

- Citron de Sicile, concombre, liveche: This was a sort of palate-cleansing entry into dessert, with Sicilian cedro (citron) granita, cucumber, and lovage (a citrus-scented green). Apparently I enjoyed it so much, and so quickly, that I didn't take a photo of it. Pardonnez-moi!
Biere Blanche Philomene

-Tocino del Cielo: We're back to this signature dessert dish of Aizpitarte's. And it's light and lovely and a cute visual/gustatory "trick" of sorts. It's a candied egg yolk atop a meringue egg shell with yolk "powder." It's barely sweet and delicious. (I could have used some chocolate, however. This is France, after all.)

Palo Cortado Fernando de Castilla

The egg dessert as it arrives at the table

The candied yolk is broken

And so our wonderful, interesting meal was over. My Parisian-dwelling friends have returned several times since then, and they're always guaranteed a dining experience unlike any other in the City of Light. That summer evening at Le Chateaubriand, we were quite happy to have enjoyed it together. Bisous mon ami!

 












LE CHATEAUBRIAND 129 Avenue Parmentier 75011
Paris, France
+33 1 43 57 4595
www.lechateaubriand.net

The vlog: 4th of July Berry Mojito

July 4th is the perfect time to get exceedingly patriotic. And I do. I've made more all-American meals for clients than I can count, baked more red-white-and-blue cakes and pastries and tarts than I care to remember. And the 4th of July -- just an ordinary day for the Italians in Italy -- was always a favorite holiday of mine in Rome. I once gave myself an American flag pedicure for the occasion! Okay, maybe that was going a bit overboard. But it was the day we Americans could declare our American-ness, our patriotism, and our love for making fun of our beloved British friends. We got together for cookouts and pool parties, and ate hot dogs and hamburgers of our own making. And the drinks. Always, said the Italians, we knew how to make the most delicious cocktails. Of course, the mojito isn't exactly American. But anything and red (strawberries, raspberries), white (rum), and blue (blueberries) -- well, that qualifies. So here we have a "patriotic" berry mojito that's perfect for sharing with friends on July 4th, and throughout the heat of summer. The lime and fresh mint give the drink a zing and a refreshing bite that cut through the sugar and sweetness of the berries. Replace the rum with cachaça or vodka for a berry caipirinha or caipiroska, respectively -- a nod to the World Cup host country and a perfect drink to enjoy while viewing this exciting soccer tournament, live from Brazil.

Enjoy, and HAPPY FOURTH OF JULY!