sans sores thank goodness even after a lot of plane rides. After my extensive tour of North Carolina, New York City, and the subcontinent, I say you must go and try the burnt miso ramen at Ippudo on the lower East side.
Other than that bowl of noodles, this trip to Manhattan was a culinary disappointment compared to my last one, but I wasn’t 100% any of the time and would rather have just gone back to my room and slept. I hit a bunch of the new places but they were ho-hum. Barrel of laughs, huh?
Happy to be back in the kitchen today. I’m buried alive in paperwork. More to come.
Apparently he is the patron saint of athletes. That has nothing whatsoever to do with our special menu tonight. The tapas we are serving in the bar this weekend were inspired by old-town San Sebastian, the Parte Vieja, in the Basque region of Spain.
spanish tortilla with pimenton de la vera and piparra peppers
duck liver mousse with house recipe membrillo
hard-cooked quail egg with boquerones and capers
crispy-creamy chicken croquette with pepperonata
wild gulf shrimp a la plancha with trumpet mushroom and garlic
fried russet potato with romesco sauce
seared pork belly with whie beans and salsa verde
Credit for the photos goes to Roland. His smartphone has a flash.
This weekend we’re doing seven different tapas, each served individually, in the bar. I gave Gustavo free rein on this theme and he’s got some cool stuff in the works, from duck liver mousse with membrillo to octopus to traditional Spanish tortilla.
Elizabeth and I ate our way through old town San Sebastian on that cuisine, and those narrow little streets were RAGING that summer when Greece came out of nowhere to win the European Cup. It was hot, crowded, the eating stared late and ended late, and the city’s crazy natural geography meant that there was always a beach in each direction.
Spanish bartenders are, I’m just now learning from Michael Pazdon, the gin impresarios of the world, so we have 209 Distillery coming this weekend to show off their gin. It’s delicious.
We didn’t sell all the gumbo, so I ate a big hot bowl of it for breakfast yesterday morning when it was 28 outside with a warm fluffy buttermilk biscuit and an over-oversize mug of strong coffee. YAHTZEE!
Did you really click on that link? Serves you right. At least you won’t receive any embarrassing cookies, not like last time.
20# chicken thighs
5-6# dark brown roux
The rest is details, but I like a fistful of toasted paprika in there; the holy trinity of course (I always use green bell peppers because reds are too sweet); I left out the tomato in this batch because we don’t keep or use tomato paste in this kitchen; I always microplane the garlic that I add with the paprika and cayenne.
No alcohol in there, it can give the impression of acidity. The dark roux makes it a gumbo (I don’t like the mucillagenous texture that file powder and okra would impart, so I leave them out), but one thing I never hear cooks mention is how much of an impact the stock or broth you use will have on your finished product.
I used a double-strength roasted chicken stock as the base for this batch of gumbo, so it tasted like a finished soup before I even started–I even had to add two quarts of water to mellow it out a little.
Don Barkley from Napa Smith will be at solbar tonight pouring his seasonal brews, and in addition to the gumbo, we have a ____-_____-good beef stroganov made from Painted Hills Ranch beef, and a cassoulet that will make you _____ in ______, maybe several times. C’mon over to the solbar lounge and fill in those blanks for yourself. (Or someone else!).
You’re getting three or four blogs for the price of one today because we were so busy for the past few weeks that I barely sat down at the computer. Let’s see if I can pull some stuff up on the iphone camera . . .
AAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand I only found two:
This weekend in the lounge, Napa Smith will be here pouring and chatting up their seasonal brews; I’m going to work on chicken and sausage gumbo, heritage pork cassoulet, and beef stroganov to accompany them. All of which are perfect for a cold, rainy January night! But of course we have the climate of San Diego this winter. Glad I’m not a skier.
Am I up to three blogs yet? A re-read says No. I should write this stuff down as I go, but it just fades away after a day or two, especially at my advanced age. The New Year’s Eve dinner was a success. Interestingly, the dishes were “fancier” than our normal ones because we were using luxury ingredients–caviar, truffles, foie gras. On the other hand, they lacked the level of composition that is found on our normal menu items.
Chefs spend money on those luxury ingredients because they are amazing natural products, and I believe that the best chefs manipulate those items the least–you’re paying top dollar to bring this foie gras in the door, why handle it and change it to the point that it’s unrecognizable?
Ryder chopped the black Perigord truffles and stirred them into a simple vinaigrette to accompany his rabbit terrine. Zach cut some of the foie gras into batons that filled his squab roulade, and then seared a second piece of foie to serve next to the squab breast and confit leg. Ryder used osetra caviar on top of his egg-yolk-filled cauliflower sformata (grazie M. Vetri).
SO why don’t we use caviar and truffles and foie gras all the time?
–Their carbon footprint is very large and doesn’t mesh well with our local approach to sourcing.
–The cost for them is so high that our menu prices would skyrocket and turn away hotel and guests and locals who depend on us for high quality at prices that have risen over the past five years, but not sharply. Additionally, their cost and availability can fluctuate wildly.
–The novelty wears off. If we cook with luxury ingredients once a year, cooks and diners are thrilled on that one day. If we cooked with them 365 days a year, everyone would think, Ho-hum.
–After years of cooking in Fine Dining before Solbar opened, I no longer have a great deal of interest in utilizing luxury ingredients. I’ve said from Day One at this job that I’d rather blow someone’s mind with green salad and roast chicken than truffles and foie gras–the former feat proves that you can cook; the latter, that you can shop.
I’m up to three or four blogs now, and the prep cooks are glaring at me through the wall, I can feel it. Back to the stoves.
Sonoma Cty was once home to lots of Russian immigrants–Sebastopol is named after a Ukrainian city of the same name. The ducks we’re using are from Grimaud Farms–they bring us everything but the feathers.
The name of the breed of duck is Muscovy, which sounds an awful like Muscovite, so perhaps the Ukrainians named the ducks after their waddly cousins in Moscow. Here, I’m speculating irresponsibly and forgetting that I just read something completely different on Wikipedia.
Here, Zach goes for the cleaver, with predictable results.
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaand sunset over Solage last night. Haven’t seen one quite like that before.
Like how I managed to get the streetlamp into the picture? I know, nice, right?
We also have rabbit from Anderson/Avilla Farms that Andrew put on the menu last night, and hopefully some Texas venison coming soon.
The restaurant and resort are both extremely busy through 1/1/12. January in Napa Valley sees a lots of restaurant closures and vacations, so we are taking full advantage of NV Restaurant Month in January to blast off with a program called “Un-Wined”.
Each of the four weekends in January, we’ll do a small number of additional menu items around a certain theme (“Swineophilia”; “Oystermageddon”) and also bring in a local distiller or brewer to help us get out the word about hand-crafted beers, ciders, spirits, and other non-grape-based intoxicants. We have a loyal local following in the bar, and I want them to be able to come in out of the cold and rain and have something at solbar they’ve never tasted before–then do it again the next week.
I know, I know, I can hear the violins playing too, but for the ravenous restaurantgoers up here who have eaten everything at every restaurant ten times already, change is welcome, especially at a time of year when most restaurants are stagnant at best, if not dormant altogether.
Details to follow. Bradley Wasserman and Michael Pazdon will be leading the charge from the bar.
Mustard is blooming in the vineyards already? And when I went back to NC for Thanksgiving, the Bradford pears were blossoming? We’re into December, and it’s yet to feel like football weather here . . .
Ryder came up with the best crab salad I’ve ever had–flavors of the Levant on this one. Lavash cracker with harissa, preserved lemon, green olive, pomegranate capsules, just bang-on. Exciting flavors all over the menu right now.
For NV restaurant month in January, we’re going to do un-wined at solbar. Over four weekends, we’ll do four different food themes–Oysters, Pork, Basque Tapas, and Home Cookin’–with an array of non-wine drinks. Should be a good time, challenging, but our loyal locals who come to the lounge often will get a kick out of it, and everything will be available in the dining room too.
If you have a good white truffle source, let me know. I can’t even get scrawny, wet ones for $3200/lb. this year. And I’ve got the tagliatelle machine all cranked up and ready.
I need to write another whole post about Gustavo’s pasilla chile soup at lunch with the poached egg in it. Just off the freaking chain, I could eat it three meals a day.
Unfortunately I have no pictures of food to show you at the moment so I’ll just leave you with this. Man cannot live on bread alone.
My aunt, uncle, and cousin joined me at Angele for the perfect lunch on a cold, rainy day–French onion soup followed by boudin blanc with pommes puree, roasted apples and brussels sprouts, washed down with a glass of cotes-de-Rhone. Tough to wish it were warm and sunny outside when there’s local French food like that to dig into.
We bought a whole 50# shoat, removed the legs, and ground them for the sausage filling. I chopped through the spine at the neck, keeping the skin intact, and boned out the spine and ribcage in one huge piece. We brined the loins, tenderloins, and top rounds overnight, then wrapped the sausage around them and tied the skin up. Off the porchetta went into the smoker for a good 6 hours.