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.

Top 4 Springtime Inspirations (so far...)

Living in paradise never gets old, but spring might be my favorite season in Napa, when the verdant new veggie crop hits the market and locals hit the back patio with rosé in hand.
Spring also signals the time for my annual celebration of rapacious gluttony (other people call this a "birthday"), which tends to unearth a lot of exciting new dishes celebrating the sweet glories of the season. This year's gluttony was truly exceptional, but here are my top four dishes that brought a fun new idea to the springtime table.

1. "Sweet pea, farmstead butter, mint, bitter chocolate,"AQ (San Francisco).

This dessert blew me away, and not just because of the clever terrarium presentation. It was flat out delicious. The delicate green flavor of the peas took a starring role in this frozen gelato-like preparation, with fresh mint and pea tendrils providing backup. Combined with the fresh creamy nuttiness of farmstead butter, these garden gems paired spectacularly with crunchy bitter chocolate. Who knew?

2. Puntarelle foccacia, Oenotri (Napa)

Oenotri started serving weekend brunch this spring, and everyone must go try it immediately. I found this mountain-sized sandwich in the pizza section of the menu, and special ordered the extra egg that's pictured above. As you can see, the dish consists of an entire loaf of house-made foccacia -- split in half, toasted, slathered with crescenza-enriched sauce, and finally buried by what seemed like a full pound of tender braised puntarelle greens. Devouring the entire thing is the only way to ensure you get your recommended daily allowance of greens.


3. Smoked trout salad, the girl & the fig (Sonoma)

Sometimes you forget about certain ingredients, because your eating habits don't see them for extended periods of time.  This dish reminded me how much I dig smoked trout, and prompted a rash of smoked trout meals at home in the week that followed. Smoked trout is the Audrey Hepburn of smoked salmon -- delicate and lovely, but with a focused intensity that belies its waifish frame.  This salad showed it off beautifully with Pink Lady apples and shaved fennel (some of my favorite complements for trout) and a creamy anchovy dressing I'd never had in this context before, which helped spread the richness of the fish flavor across all the veggies, and unite the dish.

4. Sweet pea aperitif, Aziza (San Francisco)

I love surprising flavor combinations, the sweet-savory counterpoint, and paradigm shifts for traditional ingredients.  I especially love them when they are actually delicious.  This drink was listed under the aperitif section of Aziza's famed cocktail menu, combining sweet pea juice, calvados (my favorite brown liquor, a French brandy made from apples), and sour orange.  I don't normally enjoy mixing apples and oranges in any context, but here the combination was superb -- with the sweetness stripped away, they complemented both the sweet pea flavor and each other.  Truly a remarkable beverage and unique taste experience.  I can't wait to have another.

The Stuff You Should Be Buying At Trader Joe's

Truffegeddon dinner at La Toque's chef table was a tough post to follow, so I decided to take a completely different angle for this next one: my favorite cheap TJ's groceries, suitable for eating at home in front of the TV.

I have a short list of grocery products I get at Trader Joe's that consistently garner amazed compliments and urgent inquiries about their provenance.  One of my friends recently asked me to list them all out for her so she too can shop like a ninja there, and avoid the scores of nasty TJs products that lurk on the shelves.  It would take more time than I have today to list all of my picks, but here are seven of my most-loved and most frequently purchased staples, in no particular order:

1.  Kono Sauvignon Blanc ($7.99).  This is my go-to house wine, suitable for any occasion. It's an extremely racy, grassy, Sancerre taste-alike from New Zealand that pairs with practically any food you're having: Mexican, Thai, Japanese, Chinese, French, Italian, Vietnamese... there's enough acid to cut through rich dishes, but also enough Marlborough-style fruit to round out more lean snacks. I love its jalapeno notes, and distinctive whiff of pipi du chat that makes you think you're drinking a much more expensive Loire Valley offering.  Buy this one by the case, seriously.  Though fabulous with most foods, this wine is particularly delicious when paired with item #2, below.

To know them is to crave them.

2. Roasted Gorgonzola Crackers ($1.99). These little miracles put the crack in crackers.  They're kind of like tiny Saltines, if Saltines were hexagonal and dusted in an addictive umami-rich cheese/onion/garlic/yeast/soy sauce powder. I don't care that they don't actually contain any roasted gorgonzola, these things are compulsively delicious, and the perfect aperitif to munch on with a cold glass of Kono. I can't eat fewer than 30 in a single sitting, which is probably why TJ's lists the serving size as 31 crackers. Pro tip: don't ever let yourself snack on these directly from the box.  Also, did you see the $1.99 price?!? You can't go wrong with these.

3.  Tarte d'Alsace ($4.99).  This grande dame of TJ's frozen pizza section has a shockingly delicious puff pastry-like crust, topped with shredded gruyère cheese, julienned ham, and caramelized onions.  I like to cook it directly on the oven rack (put a piece of aluminum on the lower rack to catch the runaway cheese and oil that frequently escapes and makes a huge smoky mess on your oven floor), and bake it about 2-3 minutes longer than the directions recommend.  This crisps up the crust nicely, yet still keeps it pliable enough to fold around a green salad.  One tarte serves two not-too-hungry people (not four, as the package claims), but you can always add a fried egg on top of each person's piece to round things out in classic French style.  It makes for a tremendous and très chic dinner in 15 short, effortless minutes.

4. Fennel ($1.99/2-pack).  Fennel is not particularly well-known in the US, but I'm doing my best to change that by feeding it to everyone I cook for.  I mostly eat fennel raw in salads (it's awesome in a salad for the Tarte d'Alsace at #3, for example) or crudité platters, but I also love it cooked.  Pasta con sarde is one of my favorite ways to eat sauteed fennel, and buying this two-pack is the way to go if you're making a big vat of that delicious fennel-spiked sauce.  TJ's has the best price in town. Sadly, not organic though.

5.  Port Salut Cheese ($9.49/lb).  This French cheese was originally created by monks in the dark and crazy days following the French revolution, as a way to sustain themselves during the chaotic anti-religious sentiment of the period.  Those savvy monks obtained trademark protection once they realized how amazing their cheese really was, and now we have Port Salut in nearly every grocery store in Napa -- but TJ's has it cheapest. Semisoft, mild, but with an addicting tang, this cheese melts well and can be used in pretty much any situation involving cheese. I love it with the aforementioned Gorgonzola Crack[ers].  I also like to use it in toasted cheese sandwiches with sliced apples, or Pumpkin Butter (another fantastic seasonal TJ's item).

6.  Arabian Joe's Thin Crust Spicy Spinach Pizza ($3.99 for 4 pizzas).  I bring these little pizzettas to the office for lunch a lot, and torture my colleagues with their delectable aroma.  The olive oil-rich dough is spread with plenty of spinach cooked with garlic, spices, and green onions, so they actually have quite an impressive nutritional value as well as an intoxicating scent and taste.  For years I topped these with a dab of TJ's stellar eggplant hummus, a slice or two of pepper-crusted roast turkey deli meat, and a handful of arugula -- which I then folded up and ate like a giant taco.  That is still one of my favorite ways to eat them, but I'm trying to branch out. They're fantastic on their own, really, and need nothing except a few minutes in the toaster oven to unleash their full depth of flavor.

7.  Espiral Vinho Verde ($3.99).  This dubiously-priced Portuguese wine is a summertime staple for pool parties and barbecues.  It's a vinho verde, so don't expect buttery richness or 15% alcohol -- think vodka tonic, with a lot less alcohol -- and calories, if anyone cares.  This 7% alcohol wine is light, effervescent, and built for all-day drinking in the sun.  (Not that I ever do that, of course....)  Pour it over ice and add a few slices of lime to make it more festive, Argentine tincho-style. Another wine to pick up by the case when it's in stock.  

Plenty Good For 2013

One of my best friends gave me a copy of Yotam Ottolenghi's Plenty for Christmas this past year -- the gorgeous, soft-padded-hardcover cookbook of vegetarian recipes culled from Ottolenghi's veg-head columns in the UK's Guardian.  Neither the author, the gift-giver, nor I am a vegetarian, but that has absolutely no impact on the appeal of this book.  Browsing through these lusciously photographed recipes will inspire even the most die-hard carnivore.

Most of the recipes in this collection tend to riff on classic Mediterranean spices and combinations, but the nuanced, creative layering of texture and flavor really sets the collection apart.  Beet, orange and black olive salad, for example, sounds fairly common and familiar until the orange blossom water and chopped parsley hit your sensory receptors.  Subtle tweaks and additions like these make all the difference in the world, and are what really make this book unique.

The single best thing I've cooked in 2013 so far was the caramelized garlic and goat cheese tart from page 38 of Plenty -- a recipe that I plan to replicate at every opportunity. 

Three heads of garlic sounds like an overwhelming sulphurous miasma, but the cooking technique (blanch, drain, then simmer to a syrup with a touch of vinegar, sugar, and fresh rosemary and thyme) produced an elegant, sophisticated, and tender result.  Filling the tart with both fresh chevre and aged goat gouda (I used Midnight Moon from Cypress Grove) added depth, nuttiness, tang, and texture that counterbalanced the delicate earthy sweetness of the garlic.  And the pure butter puff pastry tart shell... well, we all know how delicious that is when done well.  I leave such pastry details to the pros, and bought a package of Dufour from the frozen section of Whole Foods.

The rest of the filling for this quiche-like recipe was hardly a dieter's dream -- eggs, cream and crème fraîche -- but we found that we didn't even need to use all of this lipidinous liquid to fill up the shallow tarte once all the cheese and garlic was nestled in there.  Thanks to the Provençal herbs in there (and, probably, the fabulous 2009 Girard Old Vine Zinfandel we paired with it), the richness does not overwhelm.  This would be a perfect vegetarian main course for any season, any meal, and any gathering. 

The introductory quote for this dish from the author's recipe tester Claudine really says it all: "I think this is the most delicious recipe in the world!"  Bold words, but remarkably hard to dispute.

Home Is Where The Pork Is

My brother's pulled pork changes lives.

People who claim not to like pork will put away half a pound before coming up for air.  Lifelong pork aficionados have to recalibrate their rankings to accommodate this new upstart.  Even severe sensory integration afflictions are powerless before the slow-smoked succulence that my brother creates.  And they all back for more.



Behold.

This is why my brother has taken to smoking two seven-pound pork shoulders at a time, even if the expected crowd is relatively small and the pork is preceded by a sausage sampler course and several marinated tri-tips.  Though no one thought they had room after the onslaught of the first two meat rounds (and their accompanying sides), the revelers assembled at our family's house last weekend still pounced on the pork bowl like starving vultures the instant it appeared.


The ravening beasts descend.

My only claim to fame associated with this miraculous porcine power (other than my relation to its creator) is that my Vietnamese cabbage slaw recipe has become the condiment of choice.  Whether in a pulled pork taco, slider, or full blown sandwich, this slaw provides just the right amount of crunch, tang, freshness, and redeeming nutritional value to help you put away that extra helping of pig.  It is, in a word, indispensable.

Like the pork, this slaw must be made in vast quantities to appease the hungering hordes -- but unlike the pork, I'm authorized to share the recipe.  And it doubles easily.

Vietnamese Cabbage Salad

1. Combine the dressing ingredients in a mixing bowl big enough to whisk, and whisk together:

• 1 medium size garlic clove, smashed and minced as small as possible
• 3 tablespoons fresh lime juice
• 2-3 tablespoons of sugar, depending on your taste
• 3 tablespoons fish sauce, or according to your taste
• 3 tablespoons rice wine vinegar
• a generous showering of freshly ground black pepper
• (optional) a pinch or two of minced chili pepper, or a dash of hot red pepper flakes, or sriracha, or... whatever spicy goodness you've got.

The dressing ideally should sit for a bit (30 minutes or more) before you dress the salad to let the flavors blend, but it's not essential.  If you're just eating this salad on its own, without something outrageously rich and fabulous to flesh it out, add a couple of tablespoons of neutral oil to the dressing to compensate.

2. Mix the salad ingredients in your serving bowl:

• 4 cups (approx 1 10-oz bag)"angel hair" shredded green cabbage 
• 1 cup (about half a bag) julienned carrots
• 1/4 cup julienned red bell pepper
• 1/4 cup julienned fennel
• 1/4 cup fresh cilantro leaves, chopped
• 12-20 fresh mint leaves, torn or chopped

3. Toss the salad thoroughly with the dressing, et voilà.