I hope you’ll forgive me as I add another dish to my already full list of Ten Favorite Restaurant Dishes. Just because I’m an accounting professor doesn’t mean I can count.
I’m not really a dessert person – I don’t like making them and I’m not a particular fan of eating them either – though there are a few I enjoy. Last night, I made an exception in honor of my friend’s birthday.
We were eating at Hungry Mother in Cambridge – an interesting blend of traditional southern flavors prepared with local New England ingredients, served in a causal, fine dining atmosphere. They’ve received many accolades and are booked solid every night of the week.
The limited dessert menu had the usual suspects – chocolate, fruit and cake. What stood out was the Salted Caramel Cake served with Anglaise and Candied Bacon. They put my two favorite ingredients, salt and bacon, and turned it into dessert. How could I not order it???
And how could I share it? Given that it was David’s birthday, the polite thing to do would have been to offer a bite. But I found myself inching the plate closer to me, a spoon in my left hand and my right arm draped around the plate creating a protective barrier from anyone trying to get a taste.
The salt infused into the caramel perfectly, adding depth to the burnt sweetness. And while it was sweet, it wasn’t cloying. The layers of cake were yellow and moist. And a sweet, smoky, salty slice of bacon was the proverbial cherry top.
Thanks to David for indulging me my piggy behavior and for taking the photo.
When my sister visits, as she did this week, I live a more Jewish life-style by keeping kosher. To respect her religious beliefs, I bring out separate dishes, pots and pans… making the kitchen suitable for cooking within the Jewish dietary laws. When we go out to restaurants, we only patronize the strictly kosher ones that concentrate along Harvard Avenue in Brookline. My favorite is Rami’s.
Rami’s is the type of restaurant I would open if I ever decided to become a restaurateur. Not for the Israeli cuisine or the casual atmosphere; but because it’s a kosher restaurant that appeals to both Jews and non-Jews; people that adhere to the laws of kashrut and those who do not. My restaurant would be a fine dining, American cuisine restaurant called Dakos… as in: dairy kosher. No meat or shellfish would be served.
But back to reality and Rami’s… They serve Israeli street/café food: falafel, shawarma, and boureks (puff pastry filled with meat, potatoes or vegetables). I first went there with my sister several years ago, but now I’m there on my own every other month. I originally would just order the falafel, but soon discovered the Shawarma, and it was all over.
Shawarma can be made with goat, lamb, or chicken. Rami’s uses turkey thigh meat, skewers it and roasts it on a spit. To order, they slice thin strips off the spit and then griddle it crisp. The allspice seasoning makes this version superior to others. Traditionally, the meat is wrapped in pita bread with lettuce, tomatoes and cucumbers, but at Rami’s you can also get it served on a bed of hummos. Either way, tahini sauce, sesame seed paste thinned with lemon juice and garlic, is drizzled on top; adding a layer of complexity in flavors.
And thus we conclude the series: My Ten Favorite Dishes…. With Rami’s Shawarma taking the #10 spot.
Given the amount of kale I’ve been cooking lately, I think I should rename my blog, “Grow. Kale. Eat.”
It’s hard to ignore the bushy plot of kale chugging along by the edge of the driveway. I see it every time I pull in. And when I think about cutting back on my grocery bill (you really would be shocked how much one person can spend!), it’s hard to justify purchasing other vegetables when I have so much in my garden. Unfortunately, right now, I just don’t have the variety. The Brussels sprouts are slow to come in, the salad greens aren’t yet producing enough to make a suitable salad, and the leeks just don’t quite count as a serving of vegetable for me.
So I’m eating lots and lots of kale.
When cleaning out my office the other day, I stumble across a recipe from Oleana that I had been intending to make for years! I live just down the street from this James Beard award winning restaurant, and for a while it was practically my second dining room. The Spicy Fideos dish is still one of my favorites! Reading the recipe, it calls for Swiss chard… I decided that Kale would be a suitable substitute, and into the kitchen I went.
The recipe reminds me of Mexican mole (with chocolate and chilies) and Thomas Keller’s Vanilla-Saffron Sauce. It blends all the intoxicating flavors and aromas of both into one luscious broth. The broth is then used to cook the kale, chick peas and noodles.
A few thoughts on the recipe: It recommends cooking the noodles directly in the broth. Too me, the broth became too gummy. I would recommend cooking the noodles for half the recommend time in salted boiling water (you should read Lydia's post about cooking pasta, GREAT tips) and then finish cooking them in the broth. The dish can become quite spicy with the anchos chilies. Because I was serving a few toddlers, I decided to omit the anchos and just added a pinch of cayenne to give it a little depth. And I used my first can of tomatoes for this recipe.
One other digression before I give you the recipe: A while back, I started a list of my ten favorite dishes from Boston-area restaurants. I got distracted, and never gave you my last 2 picks. Well, my friends, this is #9!
1 tbs. canola oil 1 small onion, peeled and chopped 1 carrot, peeled and chopped 3 cloves garlic, peeled and chopped Pinch of saffron ¼ cup white wine 1” piece of vanilla bean, split in half ½ tsp. coriander ½ tsp. ground fennel 1 ancho chili (substitute a pinch of cayenne for a milder sauce) 1 can tomatoes ½ tbs. cocoa powder 4 cups water 1 can chick peas 1 bunch kale or Swiss chard ½ pound angel hair pasta or fideos Salt and pepper
1. In a large pot, add oil. Sauté onions, garlic and carrots until they begin to soften. Add saffron, vanilla, coriander, fennel and chili. Cook for 1 minute more to aromatize the spice. 2. Deglaze pan with wine and add tomatoes, cocoa powder and water. 3. Reduce heat to a simmer and cook for 35 minutes or until vegetables are very soft. 4. Meanwhile, wash kale, and chop. 5. Bring a large pot of water to a boil. Season generously with salt. Crush noodles with your hands. Cook noodles for half of the recommended package time. Drain, rinse under colder water and set aside. 6. Remove vanilla bean. Let broth cool to room temperature (otherwise pureeing it will be challenging) 7. Puree broth until very smooth. 8. Return broth to the pan and reheat. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Add the greens, chick peas and noodles. Cook until the greens are wilted and tender, about 5 minutes.
Long before the paninis became trendy in the US, Cubans were making their own pressed sandwiches. The classic Cuban sandwich layers smoked ham, slow roasted pork, Swiss cheese and pickles, and presses it all between layers of soft white baguettes with a smear of mayonnaise and mustard. And the medianoche, a popular snack for after a long night of clubbing – resembles the traditional Cuban sandwich, but is served on a softer roll with less ham. What Cuba invented, Chez Henri perfected.
Chez Henri is a French-Cuban Bistro outside of Harvard Square in Cambridge, MA. It opened in 1996 and was named one of the country’s best new restaurants by Esquire Magazine. Most of the accolades could be attributed to the original chef, Corinna Mozo whose French Canadian – Cuban heritage inspired the menu’s theme. She also wrote the recipe for the Cuban sandwiches, which have been a mainstay on the bar menu ever since. Corinna moved on long ago, and the restaurant continues to putter along… the main dining room is often half empty but the bar is always packed.
The reason: the management will not allow customers to order the famous Cuban sandwiches in the dining room, only in the bar area. And most people dine at Chez Henri for the “cubanos.” Including me.
Now that you have a brief, albeit opinionated, history of the restaurant, let me tell you about the Cuban sandwich.
This version has all the features of the original, but pumped up. Like the classic, it combines pork and ham, but with a thick layer of each thinly sliced. The pork marinates in a sour orange mojo before its slow roasting; and the smoky ham is sweet and slightly salty. They slather the bread with mayonnaise spiked with chipotles and cilantro. And to pull in the French influence, the meat is topped with melted Gruyere cheese and a blend of cornichon pickles. Before grilling the sandwich over hardwood charcoal, they brush the bread with a blend of butter and whole grain mustard.
They also make a vegetarian version of the sandwich with slices of grilled peppers, eggplant and onions. I typically order two sandwiches, one of each, and share with a friend. With a side of plantain chips and a small green salad, this is definitely one of the top ten dishes in Boston!
I worked at Chez Henri back in their early days, and regularly fixed myself a sandwich before my shift began. Thirteen years later, I’m still loving it!
Though I’ve been a professional chef for over 15 years, I haven’t worked in restaurants for the last 10. Most people don’t understand how I can earn a living as a chef but not in a restaurant. To assuage their desire to define my career, I tell them that if I did have a restaurant, the food I’d serve would be just like Peter McCarthy at EVOO.
Peter cooks clean, simple food with interesting flavor combinations. He focuses on seasonal, local ingredients and draws inspiration from around the globe. He writes his menus with a flair for whimsy: “Fried Green Monsters” a dish that evokes Fenway Park and my summertime favorite soft shell crabs. The monster crabs are green from a basil batter. “Duck Duck Goose” combines duck foie gras, duck confit and sautéed goose breast.
But the dish that keeps me coming back is the Smoked Rabbit Confit, Eva's Organic Wild Greens, Port Soaked Cherries and Toasted Pecan Salad with Shaved Vermont Cheddar and Grain Mustard – Rosemary Vinaigrette.Eva has been selling herbs and greens to Boston area restaurants for as long as I’ve been here. And her salad greens – each leaf has a unique flavor and texture. They taste tart, spicy, sweet and hardy, as they should, unlike the generic “mesclun” lettuces coming out of California.
The salad masterfully combines the full spectrum of flavor: sweet (dried cherries) with tart (balsamic vinegar) tangy and rich (cheddar cheese) earthy salad greens, smoky and rich (rabbit confit) with a well balanced mustard vinaigrette. I’m sure the pecans add a wonderful crunch if you do nuts, I do not.
Ken Oringer is probably my favorite chef in Boston (and was also on People Magazine's 50 most eligible bachelors) – he has four and ½ restaurants, and truthfully, I could make a list of my ten favorite dishes in Boston, solely from his menus. Clio, his flagship restaurant, serves modern-French fare. Uni, the sashimi bar on the lower level of Clio (the ½ restaurant) offers modern interpretations of sashimi – my favorite: seared foie gras with grilled uni with a sweet soya glaze and granny smith apples. K.O. is a steakhouse in the Nine Zero Hotel, and La Verdad is a taqueria near Fenway Park. Compiling a list of only Ken Oringer dishes would be intoxicatingly delicious, but not very interesting, so I limited myself to just one: from Toro.
Toro is a tapas-restaurant in the South End of Boston. It’s located on the edge of this trendy, restaurant-centric neighborhood, in a low-traffic section bordering the edgier parts. But the food bring the crowds. The bar and dining room blend together in single area that concentrates the lively energy. The wood bar stools and tables create warmth that accents the fire in the back of the room. The kitchen juts out just barely into the dining room. The ambiance mimics perfectly that of the Tapas bars in Catalania, Spain which I visited last year.
The dishes are uniquely Ken Oringer with a decided Spanish influence. Tortilla Espanola makes a pro-forma appearance, but the real stars of the menu are the grilled corn with spicy aioli and farmers' cheese rub, roasted brussel sprouts and conejo. David at limeduck gives descriptions here.
Since I’m limiting myself to one dish, I will tell you about the lengua… the Spanish word for tongue. The tender meat is smoky, salty and perfectly marbled for richness. The bed of lentils (lentejas) gives it an earthy, textural contrast; and they tone down the intensity of the meat without distracting from its flavor. (Though admittedly, I prefer strong flavors). The salsa verde drizzled on top gives a sweetly, acidic contrast to the meat which rounds out the full spectrum of flavors.
As a side note, growing up, my parents used to take me to a local deli for Sunday lunch. My favorite cold cut was the tongue, and I regularly ordered a tongue sandwich on rye with mustard. It wasn’t until cooking school, 12 years later, that I realized that tongue was, in fact, tongue. I’m not sure what I thought it was, but I never made the blatantly obvious connections.
We all have our guilty pleasures…. The little indulgences that we know aren’t good for us, and perhaps don’t even fit our personality or lifestyle. I’m not embarrassed to share mine – as a self professed foodie and gourmand, I’ll admit mine in is Popeyes Fried Chicken . I’m “guilty” because I know how bad it is for me. It’s guilty because their chickens, despite proclamations on their website, probably live a life similar to those of I saw on the Perdue chicken truck. Guilt aside, I’m like Pavlov’s dog when I smell that distinctive greasy, salty aroma.
Growing up in Washington DC, with a soul-full, southern culture, Popeyes are as popular as any other fast food chains. I first experienced the crispy, seasoned-to-the-bone chicken when I was 16. The biscuits are buttery and light, and the red beans and rice has a smoky hint of ham hocks. Over the years, I’ve eaten fried chicken all over the south, and so far nothing has come close.
I moved into my first apartment in Boston because of its proximity to Popeyes. Alas, the last Popeye’s closed in Boston in 1995 and did not return until last year. Great fan fare preceded the opening with buzz on Chowhound – a decidedly foodie website. Apparently, I’m not alone in this guilty pleasure. True vindication came when The Boston Globe reviewed it… the first ever review of a fast food chain.
Popeyes reached a new level of refinement when Popeyes’ twitter recommended the best wine pairing was with a $45 bottle – Cakebread Chardonnay. Up until this point, I had always stuck with 7-Up. Not surprising, though, the best wine with Popeyes, according to a recent blind tasting, was a $5 bottle. You can read all about the Popeyes Wine Tasting here. What’s your favorite beverage to pair with Popeyes?
As if I need an excuse to eat Popeyes, it’s right next to Fenway Park! And what’s more American than Baseball and… Fried Chicken.
All this talk of Pad Thai, besides making me hungry, was really a lead-up to the fourth dish on my 10 favorite dishes in Boston.
Believe it or not, on this trip to Thailand, I did sample a few other dishes including my new favorite vegetable “Pok Bong,” morning glory leaves. Crunchy with a slight “creaminess” to it in a light brown sauce: it was the perfect balance for all the noodles I was eating. Upon my return to Boston, friends told me that Brown Sugar Café not only has the most authentic Thai cuisine, but it also serves Pok Bong.
Once in the door, I forgot about vegetables and immediately went for the noodles section of the menu. I quickly discovered the “Country Style” Pad Thai, and all memories of other Thai noodles faded away. The slippery noodles balance the sweet, salty, sour and spicy. They are not dry, but a little saucy. The heat pleasantly builds as you work your way through the plate. Peanuts do not dominate the way so many American versions can. And as someone who does not like nuts (though I manage through most Pad Thais), this is an added bonus. The piece de resistance is the 5-spice tofu used in place of regular tofu. Little bits wiggle through the noodles, adding a depth of sweetness and warmth that make this dish irresistible. Just the right touch of bean sprouts adds texture and brightness. If it were possible to improve, I would use more scallions.
And while you’re there, be sure to try the Brown Sugar Roast Duck and, of course, the Pok Bong (when it’s in season).
I’ve always wanted a transcendental food experience. My first awareness of the notion was when I was five years old: watching Fred Flintstone devour a pterodactyl drumstick. Every summer, at the Renaissance Festival, I would order the turkey drumstick hoping, praying I would derive such pleasure, even half the pleasure, that Fred seemed to get from that leg. Alas, it never happened. As I got older, I witnessed my father eat sushi. He would close his eyes as he popped Flying Fish Roe with Quail Egg into his mouth, waving us off to be sure we didn’t interrupt his experience.
In 1999, I traveled to Tuscany…. We dined, among other places, at a four-star restaurant in the Old City of Colle d’Val Elsa; the setting was spectacular, atop an ancient village, gazing out to the rolling hills at sunset. The service and décor were flawless. If ever I were to have a transcendental experience, this would be the place. My friends ooh’ed and aah’ed through every bite. Though I enjoyed the meal, I couldn’t muster an authentic moan of delight. I resigned myself to never having this experience.
It was not until I ate at Oishii Boston – 9 years later, that the culinary heavens opened up and shone its light on me.
Specifically, the hamachi-truffle maki sang to me. Hamachi, yellowtail in English, is thick and meaty like tuna, but creamier in texture, and is my favorite fish for sushi. Truffle has no taste, per se, but has an intoxicatingly earthy scent. It keeps drawing me in, sucking my taste-buds hoping to extract more of its aroma. In this maki, the flavors and textures come together harmoniously with smokiness from torched (“bana”) yellowtail and crunchy shrimp tempura rolled inside. The roll is topped with a nibble of caviar to give it a crunchy, salty start that opens the taste-buds for the sensations to come.
The first time I tasted this roll, I immediately ordered a second despite the $25 price tag. On another occasion, as I sat eyes closed focusing inward to the sensations in my mouth, I waved off the server (just like my father waved off the family) when she asked me how everything was mid-bite. My dining companion was so incensed by my behaviour, we never spoke again. The same waitress has served me again, and she has forgiven what we both agree is justifiable behavior. I go back again and again, never tiring of the flavor, having a petit mort every time.
Jasper White garnered his acclaim during his years at his eponymous, white-tablecloth restaurant in the North End. Imagine everyone’s surprise when he shuttered the doors to work at the chain Legal’s Seafood, and then a clam shack!
The original Summer Shack is located at Alewife…a sprawling restaurant that, unfortunately, does not resemble a shack. Nor does it feel like summer with little natural light flowing in from the small windows. But what it lacks in décor, it makes up for in the food experience. Food is indeed love here.
One of the first things I notice when I walk in is the guy standing in the walk-in cooler (with a window so I can see him and he can see me) shucking clams. These clams don’t come from a gallon tub whose provenience is unknown; they come from fresh clams. In the open kitchen, a cook is cutting corn kernels off the cob for the fritters. As a person who opts to make fresh pasta for an idle Tuesday dinner because it’s not that time-consuming, I appreciate these extra touches for the sake of quality. The fried clams burst with sweet-brine, slightly chewy but mostly tender. The bellies, which can be a turn-off for the novice clam-eater, are subtle if even discernible.
But what keeps me coming back time after time is the Vegetable Platter: a mélange of faux virtue that allows me to order the clams and feel that I’m actually eating healthy. I’ve studied enough nutrition to know that a salad has little nutritional value and lots of fat since we make it taste good with dressing. Vegetables, on the other hand, are loaded with vitamins, minerals and fiber. And that Jasper makes them taste good…
Brown Rice, Seared mushrooms and Corn on the Cob regularly star on the plate. The rice is firm and chewy with a richness that only butter can offer. The mushrooms are seared so hard that they are crispy and caramelized brown with a nuance of roasted garlic. The corn, despite the season, manages to be crisp and sweet. To color the plate, other vegetables appear depending on the season. In the winter, broccoli raab is sautéed with garlic and chilies and glisten of olive oil, in the summer, squash is bathed in fresh tomatoes, in spring it’s asparagus roasted with parmesan. And in fall butternut squash with a hint of sage and honey. Though, you can never be sure what you’ll get since the kitchen takes advantage of what’s at peak seasonally. No matter what’s on the plate, each vegetable has its own treatment that showcases its particular virtue. And the abundance and variety make it the perfect dish to share with the table.
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