Showing posts with label Champagne. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Champagne. Show all posts

Tuesday, July 14, 2015

Finally, Some Real Asian Street Food In Napa

My number one complaint about living in Napa is that we don't have strong representation in the Asian street food department. I realize this is an absurd first-world living-in-paradise problem, but Asian street food is my desert island choice for cuisine (assuming I can crassly lump multiple highly distinct Asian culinary cultures into a single category). So many of the world's most delicious and satisfying foods come from the streets of Asia ... marinated grilled meats from Japan, Korea, Thailand, and Vietnam; fresh southeast Asian salads bursting with aromatic herbs and citrus; Chinese bao stuffed with meats; and of course Vietnamese noodle soups and banh mi sandwiches.
Succulent chicken thigh yakitori ($7) at RaeSet.
So to the surprise of no one who's ever met me, I've been anxiously tracking the opening of my neighbors' new restaurant RaeSet (pronounced ray-SETT) which offers all of these beloved items for $12 or less. Maury (front of house) and Barry (back of house) describe the restaurant's concept as "Asian Grill and Craft Brew," but that really doesn't do justice to their menu.

Besides a solid yakitori grill selection (chicken breast, chicken thigh, tsukune meatball, miso-marinated salmon, shrimp, pork shoulder, tofu, or house-made Sai Oua Thai sausage), RaeSet also cranks out tender tsukune sliders and burgers, vegan pho (as well as chicken and beef, of course), Thai sausage banh mi, and a revolving board of specials that put a new spin on authentic flavors from east and southeast Asia. On my most recent visit (last night), they delivered some absolutely incredible okonomiyaki-style potatoes topped with bonito flakes, nori, and all the classic okonomiyaki sauces, as well as a shockingly good fresh spring roll stuffed with shredded chicken, portobello mushrooms, herbs and ginger, served with turmeric-spiked sate sauce. I inhaled both before I remembered to take a picture, alas.

Spicy house-made Sai Oua Thai sausage yakitori ($9). All
skewers at RaeSet are served like lettuce cups, with fresh
herbs and nuoc cham dipping sauce.
Beef pho ($11), made with tender
braised brisket.












Miso-marinated salmon yakitori,
showing off its medium rare center.


I'm obsessed with their mixed green
salad ($6) and order it every time. Fresh
Thai basil, mint leaves, cilantro, and
greens tossed in a sesame
and Chinese mustard dressing. 







Full-size tsukune burger ($8) goes full monty: topped with cheese,
chicken liver mousse, and a 
fried egg (per the advice of the staff).
Don't resist. It's worth it. And only $4 to add all of that. 
The RaeSet kitchen makes nearly everything in house, from the sriracha to the steamed rice buns and the refreshingly unusual menu of desserts. These include a compulsively delicious halo halo with a rum caramel flan, and a fabulous almond-apple bostock with Saigon cinnamon and cider caramel for lovers of apple cakes, bread pudding, or buttery decadence generally.

Desserts (L to R): Thai mint ice cream sandwiches, bostock, and halo halo
Beverage-wise, RaeSet stocks some serious craft beers as well as sakes, with tasting flight options to help you maximize your experience. (They also have a small but mighty wine list, with some screaming deals by the bottle for those who love French wines. Think Grand Cru Champagne, Didier Dagueneau, and a couple of other Burgundy delights.)

RaeSet housemade sriracha art by yours truly.
Maury and Barry both come from fine dining backgrounds, but felt passionately about opening a super casual, inexpensive eatery that both locals and tourists could enjoy on a regular basis. Nothing on the food menu is over $15. Dishes are served on paper placemats and cardboard boats. They do takeout. They do online ordering. The kitchen serves until 11pm during the week, and midnight on Fridays and Saturdays. This fall, they plan to roll out late-night dim sum and weekend brunch. Children are welcome to come and behave the way children normally behave. There are flat screens visible from nearly every seating area of the restaurant, tuned to whatever sporting event of interest is on.  At the same time, the restaurant decor is contemporary and attractive, and you don't have to see a screen if you don't want to. 

Clearly, RaeSet is aiming to fill the gaping holes in Napa's dining sceneand I really think these guys can do it. Things have been slow (due to the absence of a publicity campaign), but now that they've worked out their opening kinks, their rave Yelp reviews are multiplying fast, and more and more people are venturing into the Jefferson Street strip mall. 

Get in there and show them some love.

3150 B Jefferson St. (in the Grape Yard Shopping center, where Pizza Hut used to be)
Napa CA 94558 
(707) 666-2475

Thursday, May 29, 2014

50 Shades of White (Asparagus)

I just got back from a wine pilgrimage to Champagne, Burgundy, and Alsace. After weeks of diligent research in local restaurants featuring regional cuisine, I learned that these three very different areas -- whose wines also differ dramatically -- nonetheless share a gut-bustingly rich eating tradition. Meat monopolized these restaurant menus, appearing in every dish in at least one form, but frequently two or three.  All green salads were systematically loaded with lardons (sauteed nuggets of pork belly similar to bacon), if not also cheese, various regional charcuterie items, and/or foie gras.
 
Burgundy is known for its Charolais beef and Epoisses cheese.
Regional specialists frequently combine the two to achieve maximal artery blockage.


This was called the salade Sparnacienne -- Epernay-style salad. Fried lardons, fried potatoes, a quarter-pound of goat cheese toasts broiled with honey, and a few pieces of lettuce and tomato (for color).

The only vegetable dishes to be found in most regional restaurants were the aforementioned salads, potatoes, sauerkraut (in Alsace), and the much-beloved white asparagus that was making its annual appearance while I was there.  Seemingly every restaurant I visited offered a form of this ultra-seasonal delicacy as its vegetable offering.

Some preparations were more successful than others.

The oddest version we tried on our first night in Alsace: a gigantic (white) platter of boiled white asparagus -- easily over two pounds' worth -- served with two white ramekins of (white) mayo and off-white, mayo-based mustard sauce, and two different types of sliced hams on a side plate.  This monochromatic mountain of blandness was far more asparagus than any human could eat in a single sitting (though I felt this way frequently in Alsace), and really didn't do any favors for the mild flavored vegetable. Not my favorite preparation. Also not very photogenic.

I loved the version we found at the excellent Brasserie Boulingrin in Reims (Champagne), though.  Here a comparatively stingy serving of asparagus had been cut into bite size pieces and baked inside a small coffee cup as part of an oeuf cocotte.  The asparagus lent its delicate flavor to the cream in which the egg had been baked, adding a lovely fresh counterpoint to the richness.

Eh, oui.

More kudos go to Au Pont du Courbeau in Strasbourg (Alsace), who served a handful of perfectly-cooked spears on top of a French lentil salad with a gorgeous soft boiled egg (oeuf mollet) to provide the sauce. Minced shallots, chives, and a splash of vinaigrette rounded out the seasoning.

Was this an asparagus dish? Or just a vehicle for that mesmerizing egg?

Takeaway lesson: unless you are German (and thus culturally bound to worship the white asparagus as a physical manifestation of the divine), feel free to skip white asparagus dishes that are only about the white asparagus.  In this writer's opinion, the veggie really shines when it's singing backup to more colorful lead vocalists.