February's Four Delectable Dishes

It's been a busy few weeks! Between my inaugural 707 scout columns for tablehopper, a flurry of new release writing for one of my winery clients, and many fun events that drew me out of Napa into the far reaches of Sonoma and San Francisco, I haven't exactly been tending to my blog this month the way I ought. 

But I have been eating some tasty things.
So, as my jump back into the saddle, I give you four delectable dishes I encountered on my culinary romps around the Bay Area this February.

Exhibit A: Spicy Duck Hotwings with Chili-dusted Jicama

from El Dorado Corner Cafe

Oh, decadent bliss.  Imagine duck confit on a handle, wrapped in a crunchy, chewy, hot saucy crust.  Despite the objective fattiness of deep fried breaded duck wings, the subjective sensation of these is remarkably clean, with fantastic textural variations and compulsively tasty inside and out.  Just do it.

Exhibit B: Wild Mushroom, Chevre, and Truffle Oil Pizza

from El Dorado Kitchen/El Dorado Corner Cafe

I've eaten this pizza at EDK a couple of times, but fall in love anew each time I order it.  The mushrooms have great wild forest funk and a delicate tenderness, which the fresh parsley and tarragon play up in a most delicious fashion.  The flavorful crust is thin but sturdy, and the ideal vehicle for transporting the truffly target to your lips.  Thanks to the new El Dorado Corner Cafe in Sonoma, this irresistible little item can now be had all day long (the EDK and its bar close down to a very small, pizza-less lounge menu for mid-afternoon), starting at 11:00 am. 

Exhibit C: Nonna's Tomato-Braised Chicken

from Scopa

I trekked up to Healdsburg for the Golden Barspoon competition this year, and finally got to experience Scopa for dinner. This little place has been recommended to me time and again as the Italian restaurant experience you always wish you had in your neighborhood.  The menu changes frequently, but this signature dish never disappears.  So what is Nonna's secret?  Succulent chicken, thick, richly seasoned tomato sauce, and dreamy soft polenta infused with fresh rosemary hiding just below in the adorable little cast iron brazier.  Brilliant textures, fabulous flavors, and perfect in every way.

Exhibit D: Seared Scallops w/ Pastis Pan Sauce, Beet Greens, and Roasted Beet-White Truffle Puree

Valentine's Day dinner at my house

Who knew that beets and their vegetal trappings would be so delicious with Pastis, scallops, and white truffle? Another example of the whole being far greater than the sum of its parts.  I share this one not to congratulate my cooking ability (this is not a techically demanding creation) but rather to share this revelation with the world.  This dish was so good, we were mourning its being gone before we even finished eating it.

Rabid for Rabbit

I can't wait for the Year of the Rabbit to start this Thursday. My reptilian brain thrills at the thought of seeing rabbit on every menu--and not just in "safe" charcuterie form.  Show me some leg, people!

I admit, rabbit on every menu is probably a delusion hope, given that the meat isn't exactly available on the same scale as, say, chicken.  But gustatory appreciation of cute little bunnies does seem to be gaining some traction with the larger food-eating public, and I'm hoping this Chinese Zodiac Year takes the movement to a new level.

Kindred rabbit eaters in the Napa vicinity should join me at Food Truck Friday the evening of February 4, 2011, for a special Year of the Rabbit party.  My full article on this carnival of delights is on WineCountry.com, here. 

Since the publication date of that piece, I heard that Mark's the Spot truck will be doing a polenta bowl with braised rabbit and mustard cream... and Dim Sum Charlie's will have rotisserie rabbit, rabbit "Kind Bowls," and rabbit dumplings, because co-owner Andrew Siegal is as much of a rabbit fiend as I am.  Fork Catering from Sonoma will have the Rabbit Bolognese, and a new-to-Food Truck Fridays wood-fired pizza truck (not Crossroad Chicken, who apparently won't be there this time) will be cranking out rabbit-topped pies for the public.

Bring on the bunny! And happy new year.

Noble Rot Infestation Spotted In St. Helena

I have been to a lot of wine tastings.  Almost without exception, the focus of events described as “wine tastings” has been either the wine, or the drunken state of attendees.  Before last Saturday’s Noble Rot event, I had never been to a wine tasting where the people behind the wine actually came first and foremost.

Not that the wine poured on Saturday was in any way undeserving of center stage—but the opportunity to chat with Hardy Wallace (of Murphy-Goode social media contest fame), Heather Munden (creator of St. Francis Winery’s single vineyard projects, as well as her own new label), and Christina Turley (former somm at Momofuku, and scion of Napa’s Turley family) about whatever came up in the casual, house party atmosphere certainly was a breath of fresh air.

The Noble Rot is a self-described “traveling wine saloon” that throws offbeat and irreverent wine tasting parties, combining (as the mood strikes) doses of stand-up comedy, theatrical flourishes, culinary riffs, and smartass coups designed to make you trust your palate and go with what you like.  The two ringleaders of this NYC-based operation are “self-appointed Master Sommelier” Jonny Cigar, and “state-certified gentleman” Brian Quinn, who believe in the dying art of face-to-face conversation, and the power of wine to promote it.  Tasting pours at Noble Rot events are not one ounce, unless you choose to pour your own.  On arrival, guests were handed a warm-up glass of wine to help with pre-program mingling, and then provided a second pour (from different bottles, but—as was revealed later—of the same wine) to compare with the first as the three special guests of the evening took to the stage.

From L to R: Brian Quinn, Hardy Wallace, Christina Turley,
Heather Munden, Jonny Cigar

This “formal” portion of the event was deliberately brief, more of a primer on the three special guests than a substantive presentation.  We learned just enough to intrigue us, and all questions had to wait until the end to ensure that you would go up and start a real conversation. 

I'll post a link to the podcast they recorded when it's available (UPDATE: it's here), but for now you'll have to make do with my abbreviated account.  The charming and indefatigable Hardy Wallace moved on from his six-month gig at Murphy Goode to work with The Natural Process Alliance, a hands-off, let nature take its course kind of group that produces fascinating, funky wines in resusable 750 mL stainless steel canteens, designed to be consumed young, alive, and within a 100-mile radius of the Santa Rosa winery facility.  You can find these crazy canteens at Bay Area restaurants like Chez Panisse and Gary Danko, to name just a few.  We got to sample the 2010 sauvignon blanc, and the 2010 pinot gris—which due to the skin-on, whole-cluster fermentation, turned out a striking orange color reminiscent of beer or cider.

Christina Turley’s dad Larry is the owner of St. Helena-based Turley Wine Cellars, known for its huge, intensely concentrated, over the top Zinfandels.  He was famously quoted by The Wine Spectator a few years ago as saying that Cabernet people drink the label, but Zin drinkers drink the wine.  After eight years in New York City working in the restaurant biz as a sommelier in her own right, Christina has returned to California to help her parents start a new wine brand… of Cabernet Sauvignon.  Far from pretending Larry’s diss never happened, the Turleys have christened their cab brand “The Label” and are downplaying label-related bragging rights as much as possible with their minimalist bottle design.  And, to further emphasize the restrained, old-school style in which the wine is made, they use the same flat-bottomed claret bottles that Napa wineries used in the 1970s, when Napa cabs could fool French wine experts in blind tastings.  We got to try barrel samples of The Label 2010, as well as the 2010 Turley Wine Cellars Hayne vineyard Zin.

Heather Munden joined the St. Francis winemaking team as their Artisan Series winemaker in 2007, after years of working around the world in places like New Zealand, Australia, Chile, and Puglia.  She shared the trials and tribulations of making small-production single vineyard wines at St. Francis’ 400,000 case facility (she has her own mini-winery within the winery), and broke the news of her nascent independent label, called Fama.  In Italian, "fama" means fame, reputation, rumor, and renown... or a woman with all of those things.  (Hmm, Heather... what are you saying?) Since the seven barrels’ worth of Fama 2009 Chardonnay from her ex's well-known Carneros vineyards haven’t been bottled yet, she brought barrel samples for us in repurposed Carlo Rossi jugs.  Rock on, sister.

I’m not really talking about any of the wines here, because the conversation was really the focus and purpose of the evening.  Chatting in the kitchen about Heather's new outdoor wood burning oven and homemade charcuterie, commiserating with Christina about the culture shock of sleepy St. Helena after years in the city, and laughing about the distribution system Hardy “the Milkman” uses to get his canteens of wine to restaurants—he delivers them himself, packed into milkcrates in the back of his car—really made the night what it was.  Tasting the fantastic and interesting wines was really more of a bonus... and yet, like the cheeses from Raymond Cheesemongers, the array of tasty crostini and passed appetizers, and the beautiful St. Helena home that hosted it all, completely essential to the experience.

This event on January 29 was the first west-coast foray for Noble Rot, but Jonny and Brian definitely have plans for more California mayhem... including a possible City of Napa event I could walk home from.  You can follow their rollicking adventures and teasers on their website, via Twitter, or through their blog, Winetology.com. 

Enough positivity! Time for a rant.

I make a real effort to write food related articles that work positively for everyone involved.  I emphasize the good stuff for restaurant-specific reviews, and avoid public discussion of things that I can't praise in good conscience.

But I got pissed off today at lunch, so I'm going to rant about it a little.  You can tell me in the comments if you think I'm overreacting.

Restaurant X offers four different versions of a salady type dish for lunch.  The pork, chicken, and vegetarian (with stir-fried bamboo shoots, red onion, and tofu instead of meat) versions are all the same price, let's say $11.50.  The shrimp version is an extra $3.75.  All of the meat versions come with a little side spring roll, included in the price.

I told my server I wanted the chicken version, but did not want the little side spring roll that came with it.  I asked her if I could substitute something for the side spring roll.  She told me the veggies from the vegetarian version were great, and that she thought the best version of this dish was the chicken bowl with the vegetarian veggies added.  I said great, let's do that then, and thank you for the suggestion and substitution.

No reference to any additional costs associated with this substitution of vegetables for a pork spring roll.

A few minutes later, the expo arrives with my food, but he's brought me just a vegetarian version (tofu and veggies on top), with no side spring roll.  I say to him, I ordered a chicken version of this with the veggies.  He takes it back, returns moments later with the same veggie salad bowl topped with grilled chicken.  All good.  I'm wondering at the added tofu, but not concerned because it didn't really affect my ability to eat the dish.

When the bill comes--or more accurately, once they've run my card on the bill as presented--I notice that the server rang up my lunch as a vegetarian salad bowl ($11.50), with added chicken ($4).  The only thing that looked as I expected was the fact that I didn't get a discount for foregoing the spring roll.

Not cool! If there's a charge associated with a requested substitution that's not disclosed anywhere on the menu, the server should tell the customer at the time they are ordering.  Particularly when the server is the one suggesting the substitution.  The server is the keeper of the restaurant's information, and it's part of the server's job to inform customers of off-the-menu details that may affect their enjoyment of the experience.

I didn't ask to have the veggies until after she'd told me that was an option for replacing the unwanted spring roll on the chicken bowl I did want.  Had she told me of the surcharge when I was ordering, I might have chosen differently... or I might have gone ahead and done it the way I did... but either way, I would have had the knowledge I needed to make an informed decision and maximize my enjoyment at the restaurant.

But she never mentioned any surcharge.  And, even worse, she rang up the dish in a way that maximized the extra charge! I asked for the chicken bowl.  She rang up the veggie bowl, and added on chicken... which curiously was more expensive than the shrimp add-on... and, I suspect, more expensive than whatever a veggie add-on would have cost.

Seriously?

That kind of underhanded upselling really pisses me off.  It's not about the money--I will happily pay an extra $4 to get what I want--it's the principle of the matter.  Feel free to try to upsell all you can, but don't do it sneakily with undisclosed charges and strategic re-classification of the original order.

Was this whole thing an inadvertent mistake when she rang it up? Possibly... though the remarkable choice of the cheapest base item and most expensive add-on makes me wonder.  Even if it was an honest mistake, though, the server should at the very least have pointed it out and explained the extra charge to me before I was asked to pay it.

I'm not identifying the culprits here, because this is more about principle than about that particular restaurant, or that particular server.  But I have to say, I probably won't be back to Restaurant X any time soon.

Am I overreacting?

Short List for Napa Valley Restaurant Month

January 2011 is the very first Napa Valley Restaurant Month, a full 31 days of promotions by local restaurants to get people dining out in this slowest month of the year.

The complete list of participating restaurants is excitingly long, but also peppered with copious amounts of fine print and limitations that are different for each restaurant.  If you're like me, this makes for some slooooow dinner decisions.

And this is why, after spending hours looking into all of these offerings (and sampling the delights of a few), I wrote a primer to share what I perceived to be the absolute best deals of the lot.

You can read it on WineCountry.com's Napa Valley blog, here.

Contemplative New Year's Eve Post... For Once, Not About Food

New Year’s Eve has long been one of my favorite days of the year.  I love the notion that we begin each year with a fresh start and energized hope to create a better future. 

The line dividing December 31st from the future rest of our lives is, admittedly, completely fabricated—but so is most of human happiness.  Manipulating our minds into states that let us welcome joy, closeness, and confidence has helped people get through life since human brains evolved enough to experience sadness.  As my younger, more cynical self learned in Social Psychology class, there’s nothing wrong with a little self-delusion to make you feel better about life.  Lasting happiness and positive change require a whole lot of directed thinking, in fact.

So the artificiality of New Year’s doesn’t bother me.  Its arbitrarily fixed date at the end of the calendar just operates as a periodic reminder for you to step back from your life and assess what you’d like to do with it.  The end of the year timing makes it easier for you to ditch the attitudes and habits you’d like to shed, symbolically leaving them in the now oh-so-distant past of “last year.”  Once you’re out of school, life is woefully lacking in that kind of forced chapter break.  

So I make the most of the holiday and write my resolutions every year.  Even if I don’t wind up fulfilling them, I still feel better thinking that I’m moving on to better things.  And that’s more than half the battle.

The Miracle of (Truffle) Love

It was an early Christmas miracle... my awesome friend and PR woman extraordinaire Holly Krassner scored me a pass to the non-feast portions of the Napa Valley Truffle Festival! And it was tremendous.

I sat in on the Saturday sessions, following the Grower/Scientist curriculum.  The keynote speech by "Well-seasoned Traveler" Doug Duda kicked things off with fun tales of surly French farmers, overly friendly truffle dogs, and the people who squeal at every mention of the t-word.  Some high notes from the speech and ensuing discussion:

• video footage of the annual truffle Mass in Richerenches, France, as the congregation deposits fresh Périgord truffles in the collection basket, and the priest blesses the Eucharist with the truffles sitting right up there on the altar next to the chalice;
• it is legal to bring fresh truffles home to the US in your suitcase, so long as all the surface dirt has been removed;
• two of the best ways to enjoy fresh Périgord truffles are the classic truffle omelet, and braised sliced celery root topped with truffles; 
• are Scorpios truly more susceptible to the truffle's sensuous charms than other Zodiac signs? (A subsequent informal poll of the attendees proved inconclusive.)

Thanks to Todd Spanier, the Re dei Funghi (King of Mushrooms), Mr. Duda was able to brandish a real truffle as he delivered his concluding remarks.  Incredibly, no one charged the podium--though many rushed Todd afterwards to pose for a picture with his enormous truffles and silky golden cloths.

The first seminar session I sat in on addressed the science of truffle cultivation, and was led by the shy guy with the German accent who sat next to me at the keynote.  Dr. Alexander Urban, it turns out, is a full professor in the Department of Systematic Evolutionary Botany at the University of Vienna, and author of such sleeper hits as “Frontiers in Ectomycorrhizal Symbioses Explored with Molecular Phylogenetic Methods,” and more recently, “In vitro mycorrhization of clonally propagated woody plants.”  Fortunately, his passion for truffle studies is infectious, which greatly helped the audience digest the dense information on mycorrhizal organisms he presented.  I came away with what felt like a full college quarter under my belt, which I attempted to summarize here for WineCountry.com. 

Much remains to be deciphered about the truffle fungus' life cycle, particularly the mechanism or process that prompts the fungus to "fruit" and produce the truffle we all want to eat.  Dr. Urban ran through the long history of truffle cultivation attempts in Europe, and noted the key environmental factors essential for the survival of each of the three most desired species of truffles--Burgundy summer, Périgord black, and Italian white.  He showed us wildly varying sites in France, Austria and the Netherlands that all have successfully produced Burgundy and/or Périgord truffles, stoking our lust to break ground on our own orchards, stat.  Then he crushed us with the news that the Italian white, Tuber magnato, whose haunting fragrance and delectable peppery flavor command 4-5 thousand dollars per pound, has thus far resisted human cultivation of any kind.  Woe were we. 

Dr. Paul Thomas of the American Truffle Company stepped up to deliver a short overview of how his company helps would-be truffle farmers create, cultivate, and manage financially successful truffle orchards using lots of scientific monitoring and their accumulated research and experience from partnering with farmers all over the world.  But, since he couldn't very well give away the milk for free, he was pretty tight lipped about the results of his new research into the hormonal communication between truffle fungus and host trees that may prompt fruiting.

After hours of this torturous foreplay, it was finally time for our truffle lunch at La Toque. 

First course: a roasted chestnut and porcini mushroom soup, garnished with toasted pumpkin seeds, pumpkin seed oil, truffled crème fraîche, and generous shavings of Burgundy truffles.

This dish was, quite simply, orgasmic.  The chestnuts had a subtle caramel sweetness that complemented and punctuated the warm earthiness of the mushrooms and pumpkin seeds, as well as the sexy funk from the tender Burgundy truffle slices.

If only I could eat this every day.  And by day I mean hour.

I'm providing a bonus close-up food porn picture for those cold and lonely nights.

The second course of truffle lunch was a juicy chicken breast roulade with black truffle slices tucked discreetly under the skin, and a wonderfully aromatic parmesan broth bathing a medley of black trumpet and chanterelle mushrooms and fresh kale.  This too was delicious, but after that mind blowing soup, it was kinda hard to notice.            

Dessert was a mignardise-type plate of chocolate covered almonds, white chocolate pumpkin seed brittle, and biscotti--none of which contained truffles, disqualifying the plate from appearing in this blog.

After lunch we were off to the brand new, just-planted Périgord and Burgundy truffle orchard at Robert Sinskey Vineyards' Ramal Road property in Carneros, which had been created in partnership with the American Truffle Company. 

Sadly, even I must confess that a truffle orchard in its infancy isn't much to look at.  Anticipating this lack of visual excitement, perhaps, American Truffle Company CEO Robert Chang had accompanied us to help explain the work that had been done, what was being done now, and what was expected in the future.  Bill Collins had also brought his 6-month old Lagotto Romagnolo puppy Enrico  Caruso (Rico for short) to cavort around in the mud and otherwise charm the assemblage with his antics.  Lagotto Romagnolo dogs are the traditional breed used for truffle hunting in Italy, and based on the rooting and digging he demonstrated that day, Rico clearly has it in his blood. 

As we learned about expected yields of truffle orchards, we passed around some extra truffle-inoculated baby trees that hadn't made it into the ground.  Sinskey used two different types of trees for its orchard: live oak, which produces truffles more slowly at first but continues to produce for decades, and filbert (hazelnut) trees, which produce truffles faster than oaks, but also have a shorter productive life.  We got to fondle both.  The picture below is a baby filbert tree with truffle fungus in its roots, which costs about $20.


I was ready to buy one of those trees then and there, but wasn't sure I'd be able to raise my backyard's pH levels in time to get the tree in the ground before winter... and oh yeah, it takes 4-8 years for a tree to start producing truffles. So, not exactly the best impulse buy.  I put away my wallet.

Mr. Chang told us that Sinskey's was the first truffle orchard planted in Carneros, but noted mysteriously that there is another one in the works "near Kenwood," and that several other property owners "in the area" were also starting up some truffle farms.  He was optimistic about Carneros' prospects for truffles, but also very favorably inclined to the Calistoga area.  We shall see... in a decade or so.

The following day, I swung by the Festival's Epicurean Marketplace to check out the wares.  You may recall that this was the $15 portion of the event, but I have to say that this experience was worth far more than the price of admission.  The King of the Mushrooms was there with his queen, who live just a short drive away in San Mateo and who were full of advice on what to do with your real, fresh truffles.  They had set out an assortment of truffle samples they had made, from truffled white polenta squares to truffle infused San Francisco Vodka--a brilliant idea, by the way, that tasted as good as it sounds.  They also were selling fresh truffles right there on the spot... so I bought one.  It was my first, and it was beautiful.

You may be afraid to ask what I did with it, but I will tell you.  First I shaved off its tough outer "bark" with a paring knife to expose its tender, moist interior.  Did I toss these bark-like shavings? Yes, directly into a bottle of fresh vodka to steep for a few weeks.  I have big plans for those cocktails, and not a scrap of truffle went to waste.

So there it was, my denuded and fragrant little beauty.  I rubbed it in butter to protect it from the air until I was ready to chop it up and use it for my decadent dinner of buttery soft scrambled eggs, full on French baveuse style.  Once the eggs were almost set into their gooey custardy perfection, I julienned half the truffle and stirred the slivers in to heat through as the eggs hit their last minute of cooking.  I cook eggs this way a lot using truffle butter to finish them, but this was a totally different experience with the real thing.  Muskier.  Dirtier.  A sordid delight unlike any other.  When it was over, my girlfriend and I both needed a cleansing shower.

On the advice of the Mushroom King, I preserved the other half of my naughty little truffle beyond its natural two week freshness window by chopping it up and covering with cooled clarified butter, then storing in the freezer.  I will be breaking that badboy out at Christmas dinner.  Oh, yes I will.  Whether anyone else in my family gets some is another question entirely.