Matters of Taste

WOW WINES --- Continued

Here's one more for my running tally of wines that:

"…make my eyes open wide and my mouth break into a big smile. It’s usually a fruit-forward wine, a fragrant wine, a wine that goes well with food. It’s also usually a good value, often under $15, rarely over $30."

For a wine to stand out in the large, festive family dinner party I attended over the weekend in Nashville, TN it had to be damn good. Uncomplicated. Delicious.  Food-friendly. In-your-face fruity.

And that’s exactly what I found in the 2008 Tenuta Curezza Salento Rosso PRINE.

This Primitivo/NegroAmaro 50-50 blend (hence, PRINE) is from Puglia in Italy’s heel. Primitivo is the Italian Zinfandel; NegroAmara (“bitter black” ) is a local grape usually used for blending.

Because this wine spends no time in oak barrels, it’s all about the fruit – lush, aromatic, plummy, in-your-face fruit.  It was a fitting partner to our dinner at MafiaoZa's, a parade of elegant, thin-crust pizzas with creative toppings, including the yummy DeMartino with imported salami, sun-dried tomatoes, goat cheese, homemade mozzarella, arugula and basil chiffonade.

The Curezza PRINE is an inexpensive wine, we’re talking about 12 bucks a bottle. Happy to be gulped, not sipped. And delicious with pasta dishes and pizza, burgers, ribs and other backyard grill fare. Check it out.

MafiaoZa's, Nashville's most beloved pizzeria, is located at 2400 12th Avenue South. 

 

Little Things Mean a Lot -- Farrotto at Boulud Sud

Sometimes it’s the simplest dish on the most grandiose menu that makes me the happiest. That was the case recently at Boulud Sud, superchef Daniel Boulud’s celebration of Mediterranean food on New York’s Upper West Side.

The menu is cleverly divided into “From the Sea,” “From the Farm,” and “From the Garden,” and is packed with sophisticated  creations such as Zaatar Baked Cod; Spring Ricotta Cappelletti with Nettles and Fiddlehead Ferns; and Spiced Lamb with Hand-Rolled Couscous and Algerian Eggplant.

But it was a simple “Side Dish,” and two nibbles from the “To Share” section of the menu that stole my heart.

I loved the pyramid of perfectly crisped artichoke hearts, Roman style, that was served with a aioli brightened by nipatella (the Italian herb has mint and oregano notes).

I was mad about the crispy, wispy explosion of tastes and textures that Executive Chef Aaron Chambers calls Spiced Duck Leg Kataifi and serves with a piquant date chutney. (Kataifi is a classic Greek dessert of shredded phyllo dough, honey and walnuts, but enterprising chefs today wrap it around everything from shrimp to baby eggplants.)   

Both dishes came from the “To Share” section of the menu and cost less than $15 for four of us to enjoy.

But I fell hardest for Chambers’ Organic Farrotto swirled with a pesto of fresh spring ramps, mascarpone cheese and Parmigiano Reggiano.

Farro, or emmer wheat in English, is an ancient grain that’s long been popular in Italy and is now gaining fans in the U.S. It’s used mostly in soups and risotto-style preparations, where it has to be cooked carefully or it will turn mushy.

Chambers’ version had a sensational texture – each firm yet tender grain stood out in the creamy sauce that was punched up with the pungent garlic-onion flavor that makes ramps so treasured during their brief Springtime appearance each year.

Lucky for the folks at my dinner party on Friday night, Chef Chambers was willing to share the recipe.

                                  

ORGANIC FARROTTO WITH RAMP PESTO

6-8 servings

3          cloves garlic

1          bunch (1/2 lb) fresh ramps, rinsed

1/2      cup basil leaves, packed

6          cups chicken or vegetable broth

2          tablesppons unsalted butter          

1/2      cup dry white wine

2          cups farro

1          cup mascarpone cheese

1/2      cup freshly grated Parmigiano Reggiano

 Salt and freshly ground white pepper

Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil.  Separate the leaves from the stems of the ramps; chop the stems. Boil the garlic 3 minutes, and then add ramp and basil leaves. Boil 2 minutes, then strain and chill in the ice water. Squeeze dry and transfer to a blender. Blend with enough water to make a thick, smooth puree, and set aside.

In a medium saucepot, bring the broth to a low simmer.                                                       

Melt butter in a large saucepot over medium-low heat. Add ramp stems and sweat for 2 minutes, or until translucent. Add the farro and stir for 4 minutes (do not color). Add the wine, stir, and cook until the liquid evaporates. Slowly stir in enough broth to reach the level of the farro and simmer. Stir continuously adding more broth, 1/2 cup at a time, as it is being absorbed by the farro. Season to taste with salt and pepper after each addition of liquid. Cook 16-18 minutes, or until farro is tender and the mixture is moist but not runny. When the farro is done, stir in mascarpone, parmesan and the reserved ramp puree. Adjust seasoning if needed. Serve warm.

La Marmotte: Telluride's Treasure

In my book, there are two things that make a great restaurant experience even greater.

One is when the chef’s cooking inspires me to try something new at home.

And two is when there are leftovers that turn into a scrumptious Act Two the following night.

At La Marmotte in Telluride, Colorado, chef Mark Reggiannini scored on both counts during my visit there in late March.

I fell in love with his simple but sensational stuffed chicken breast to which Gruyere cheese, arugula and Nicoise olives lent a bright Provencal note. The chicken was beautifully charred outside, white and juicy within, and sauced with shiny natural juices.

The accompanying mashed potatoes were smooth and creamy; the clever “onions in the shape of pasta” contributed another pleasing texture and even more buttery richness.

I’ve never been a fan of stuffing chicken breasts at home – the stuff always spills out into a sloppy mess when I do it.  But Reggiannini made it look easy. And I figure if I can achieve flavor like that, I’m willing to give it another shot.

On the second score, the leftovers: I brought a hefty chunk of the very generous dinner portion home with me. The next night I broke it apart gently and reheated it (chicken, stuffing and onions) in a saucepan with chicken broth. Just before serving, I added a handful of arugula, a bit of grated Gruyere, and tossed it all with cooked penne. Fabulous.

La Marmotte’s menu is an ambitious roster of hearty dishes, well suited to the robust appetites that get  worked up while skiing down double-diamond runs in the winter and hiking up awe-inspiring peaks in the summer. Reggiannini is well known for his braised beef short ribs with horseradish mashed potatoes and pesto; his Colorado lamb “duo” (braised shank and grilled sirloin, with mushroom risotto and rosemary-date jus);  and a slow-baked salmon with edamame couscous and lemon-caper remoulade.  I’m also a big fan of his roasted red beet salad with goat cheese wontons.

La Marmotte, which has been part of the Telluride landscape for more than 20 years (Reggiannini joined about 10 years ago), oozes rustic charm. Set in the 125-year-old Ice House, it has a dark and cozy bar, and an inviting dining room with an elevated, open kitchen smack in the middle. In season, it’s always packed with an animated, appreciative crowd.

The restaurant is located in the heart of the traffic-light-free town of Telluride. Reservations are available on Open Table. The three-course prix fixe menu -- which includes more than a dozen each appetizer and entree selections -- costs $49 per person.

 

One Affogato, Please; Hold the Theatrics

I guess it stands to reason that if someone is going to add flash and dazzle to the very simple, sublime creation called Caffe Affogato (or Gelato Affogato al Caffe), it’s probably going to happen in Las Vegas.

Italians usually play this luscious creation straight: a scoop of vanilla gelato and a shot of espresso straight from the machine. (This tantalizing pic is from EarleRecipes.com.)

But at Fleur, the Vegas offshoot of chef Hubert Keller’s San Francisco prix-fixe paradise, Fleur de Lys, the heavy cream dessert base is spiked with Bailey’s liqueur, for starters.  Then, it’s turned into ice cream in a dramatic, LN2-fueled, table-side show. (That’s liquid nitrogen to those of us who barely squeaked through high school chemistry, and it is capable of turning cream into ice cream in a Las Vegas minute.)

Our server, a young woman who didn’t look real comfortable with the task, poured the Bailey’s cream mixture into a metal bowl, and added the LN2, creating a theatrical vapor cloud. She then worked furiously with a whisk to add some volume to the mixture as it solidified. After piling the resultant "chunks" of ice cream into a dessert dish, she poured on the espresso which was, by then, no longer hot.

Like most things in Vegas, this affogato was more about style than substance. Fun to watch the production, and tasty enough, too (how bad can ice cream swimming in espresso be?) But the presto-change gelato was significantly icier and less creamy than the real thing. And the pricetag – 15 bucks – was totally Vegas.

Fleur, which is in the Mandalay Bay Hotel, has an appealing menu of small and large plates, and plenty of “fun” food, such as onion soup “shooters,” black angus sliders, and Parmesan Paprika Popcorn. I liked the Gallic version of Caesar salad with brioche croutons, gruyere cheese and truffles; and the tarte flambee, Alsace’s answer to the pizza, with onion, bacon, truffle and crème fraiche.

 

Beer-Can Chicken, with Bling

That’s the #1 reason I love Park Tavern, the 9-month-old restaurant across from San Francisco's Washington Square Park.

 

                                      

Chef Jennifer Puccio calls her patrician take on the plebian chick “Petit Poulet Rouge.”  It’s actually a fat, juicy Cornish Game Hen that she rubs with homemade harissa, a wildly aromatic and flavorful paste of smoked paprika, sun-dried tomatoes, garlic, New Mexico chile, fresh thyme and olive oil. Puccio then roasts the bird to crackly, bronzed perfection on a French chicken roaster in a wood oven. Underneath the chick sits Bloomsdale spinach and Peewee potatoes, soaking up the luscious juices in a handsome cast iron plate. (This photo is courtesy of Frankeny Images, Copyright 2011.)

Not only is the presentation dramatic – I expected applause to break out when our server delivered the eye-popping, upright creation to our table ---but the flavors are dramatic, too: bold, multi-layered, and lip-smacking.

Reason #2 for my infatuation: Brussels Sprouts Chips. Wispy. Crispy. Perfectly seasoned. Downright addictive. And, in my book, far more exciting than the fried kale chips that are the rage these days. (This photo is from Foodspotting.com, a tantalizing website that you should not look at when you're hungry!)

Reasons #3 to, oh, say about #10, can also be found on the Park Tavern menu, an appealing roster of modern American bar food. Voluptuous burrata cheese shares a plate with lemon chips, paper-thin citrus slices that are dredged in rice flour and deep-fried. Deviled eggs are dressed up with bacon and pickled jalapenos, a far-cry from the bridal-shower-buffet-table of the old days.

If it’s a rollicking plate-sharing experience you’re looking for, you’ll be in heaven here. If you’re up for a more traditional three-course affair, move on to the creative salads – arugula is paired with a garlicky, thyme-scented mushroom conserve; or a sublime soup such as the caramelized onion and wild mushroom potage that’s topped with Swiss chard and a poached egg.

As long as you can talk someone at your table into ordering the Poulet Rouge, you are free to explore the other options. The Angus filet mignon with twice-cooked potatoes is terrific; the Hawaiaan tombo tuna is impressive all by itself; teamed with crisp sunchokes and baby artichokes, it’s a work of art.

It’s totally pointless to exhort folks to save room for dessert. Puccio's food is just too tempting. But even if you haven’t saved room, you've gotta spring for the Birthday Cake of the Month. In April it was "Jenn’s Yellow Cake with Chocolate Peanut Butter Frosting" and it was sensational.

The dessert menu also includes a Tcho chocolate crème brulee, and two “Boozy Floats,” such as Hank’s Root Beer Float with fennel ice cream, Absinthe and lime.

And, speaking of booze, the Tavern’s bar scene is one of contagious conviviality, presided over by skilled and amiable bartenders.  The wine list is also impressive, with wines (including some lovely, lesser-known surprises) that match well with the assertive flavors of the food.

One last reason to love Park Tavern: the happy, high-spirited vibe that permeates both sides of the "counter." Owner Anna Weinberg and her team seem genuinely happy to serve their guests, and the guests on the recent night I visited appeared to be wildly happy to be there. Park Tavern is at 1652 Stockton Street; (415) 989-7300. (This photo is courtesy of Frankeny Images, Copyright 2011.)

                                           

Delectable Dishes of 2011

One last longing glance at the delicious year that was 2011. Here are 10 “best bites” that you might want to put on your “To Eat” list for 2012.

When members of the Association of Food Journalists (AFJ) descended on Charleston, S.C. last fall, every chef in that food-crazy town set out to outcook his colleagues. We had extraordinary lunches and dinners everywhere we went. But the most exciting food in my book was at Charleston Grill, where chef Michelle Weaver knocked the socks off our party of 10 food writers. We loved the butter-poached Maine lobster with wild mushrooms and preserved lemon atop a sweet corn puree; the sweet potoato “casserole” ravioli with pork belly pecan streusel; and the impressive Charleston Grill Crab Cake with Creek shrimp and lime-tomato-dill vinaigrette, pictured here. But the real standout for me was the voluptuous seared foie gras with aromatic bourbon-cider sauce. Trimmed with sautéed apples, poufy cider doughnuts and sumptuous mascarpone sauce, it was sensational.

                                       

There were a lot of rave-worthy dishes at Michael Chiarello's Bottega in Napa valley, where we celebrated my mother’s 89^th birthday in late fall.  But the ethereal potato dough raviolo of chef de cuisine Robert Hohmann managed to be in a league of its own. The delicate pasta package was filled with spinach and ricotta cheese and topped with an organic, soft-cooked egg that mingled its vivid yolk with a brown butter sauce flecked with fresh sage. It was all showered with shavings of fresh black truffles. Simple. Sensational.

In truth, I adored all the food  I tasted at Yerba Buena, on New York’s Lower East Side.  The booze, too. (The Poquito Picante was my favorite cocktail of 2011.) But if I have to single out just one of the boldly flavored, beautifully presented Latin dishes,  it would be the pan-seared, miso-glazed black cod that was done with aji panka, a Peruvian pepper with a distinctive smokey, fruity taste;  shiitake mushrooms; and choclo corn, an Andean variety with a nutty flavor and  substantial texture.  (This photo is from Starchefs.com, a site which includes other Yerba Buena photos that will make you drool.)

                                       

Tautog. Never heard of the beast? Neither had I. Until, that is, I stumbled upon the Atlantic Ocean fish at The Little Owl, an enchanting bistro in New York’s Greenwich Village. The tautog’s flesh is firm and pearly and sweet, thanks to its high-fat diet of fiddle crab and mussels. Chef/co-owner Joey Campanaro pan-sauteed the filet and crowned it with an aromatic “salad” of cherry tomatoes, cucumber, avocado, garlic, lemon zest and fresh thyme. Brilliant.

 

 

I wasn’t really expecting great food at the Vintage Restaurant in Sun Valley, Idaho when I visited late last summer. It’s a funky little place, a tiny wooden cabin in the middle of the village , with seating in a rather neglected little garden. However, when the sun went down and the Christmas lights went on, the place was magical. And the food was fabulous. I especially loved the Sweet Corn Rock Shrimp Tamale (pictured below), with its perfectly cooked jumbo shrimp, snappy aioli-like sauce, and colorful confetti of corn, carrots, onions and tomatoes.  This was lip-smacking bliss.

 

 

If you knew gnudi like I know gnudi…..you’d buy a plane ticket to Seattle today.  I found the most ethereal little dumplings -– like biting into a cloud, really –- at Lark,  a  lovely, low-key restaurant across from Seattle University. Everything I tasted at this “small plates” emporium was superb, but it was the noteworthy gnudi embellished with arugula and toasted pine nuts that really rocked my world.

Not only was chef Dan Kluger’s signature black sea bass creation at ABC Kitchen one of my favorite dishes of 2011, it was one of the best seafood dishes I’ve ever tasted. Perfumed by the marjoram and mint, basil, dill and jalapeño tucked under the seared skin, it was presented with baby potatoes  cooked in water infused with rosemary and tarragon, lemon zest and ginger. The accompanying wilted spinach, dressed with lemon confit, made this dish a triple triumph of taste, texture and scent. (Photo from PeekAndEat.com.)

                                      

 

A dumpling by any other name……tastes even better when it’s called a knödel,  I love the round, hefty  “dumplings” of Austria, German and Südtirol (the German-speaking, northernmost region of Italy), and tried to eat at least one every day of my month-long hiking trip last summer.  I found the best, a simple but sublime version, at Gasthof Fürberg am Wolfgangsee, a rustic country inn on the shores of Lake Wolfgang, south of Salzburg in Austria. Light and airy, the knödeln were made of flour, fresh spinach, herbs, and cheese, and set afloat in a parmesan and butter broth. Showered with shaved parmesan  and roasted cherry tomatoes,  they were a decidedly elegant riff on a rustic staple. 

                                       

Everybody says the food is not the thing at Waverly Inn in Greenwich Village. And, in fact, the A-list clientele, the camaraderie, the consorting, the seeing and being seen really are more important than what’s on the plate or in the glass. Nonetheless, I was completely smitten by the signature chicken pot pie when I dined there last spring with restaurant consultant Clark Wolf. (I’d never snag a table on my own….this is, possibly, the toughest restaurant in town to get into.) But the poufed, well-burnished package, which spills decadently over the edges of the plate, offers tender chicken, peas, carrots, crimini mushrooms and pearl onions, and can hold it’s own in this den of distractions. It’s comfort food with a cosmopolitan touch.  (By the way, rabbit gets pretty fabulous treatment here, too, showing up in an excellent pasta dish with morel mushrooms and fava beans; and a top-notch rabbit terrine studded with pistachios. )

 Sometimes a memorable dish is memorable  because it inspires you to cook it at home and enjoy it over and over again. Case in point: Spaghettini  with Flaked Cod, Broccoli Rabe, Garlic, Chili, White Wine, and Rustic Breadcrumbs at Union Square Café in New York City.   I’ve been a fan of this Danny Meyer restaurant since it opened in 1985. Every time I go I find a dish (or two or three) that I can’t live without. On a visit last spring, I flipped over the grilled lamb chops “scotta dita” served with a potato-gruyere gratin, and the spring greens ravioli with preserved lemon. But it was the simple spaghettini with sprightly flavors that I loved most, and now make at home whenever I get the craving. This photo is from Mission:Food; the post includes the recipe.

 

 

Top Three Meals of 2011: AI FIORI

In the aftermath of 9/11 and the 2008 economic collapse, restaurateurs and restaurant-goers alike have been pretty much fixated on homey, rustic, bistro, farmhouse,  low-key.  And I’m no exception.

But I was thrilled to discover last spring that haute cuisine is alive and well and holding court at Ai Fiori in New York City’s luxury boutique hotel, the Setai FIfth Avenue.

                                    
                                       
From the first nibble of cod croquettes with truffled tartar sauce in the hotel’s chic Bar on Fifth, to the last lick of ethereal chocolate semifreddo in the graceful dining room, this was a dinner to remember and rave about.

The excitement started with lobster veloute, a shimmering potage with ocean-fresh flavor, and a delicate spray of shaved chestnuts and black truffles.  The blue crab salad that followed was a sparkling mosaic of crab, avocado, grapefruit and fresh, fragrant tarragon, served with a crisp little farinata (a Ligurian chickpea cake usually cooked in a wood-fired oven) on the side. The two dishes artfully summed up Executive Chef Michael White’s strategy at Ai Fiori: Marry the best of French technique to the exuberance of the Italian palate, and get ready for one happy reception party.

The seduction continued with barely poached Wellfleet oysters set afloat in a gossamer beurre blanc speckled with cool cucumber and shiny sturgeon caviar. In terms of extravagance, that was a tough act to top, but along came the homemade agnolotti which did just that. The fragile bundles of braised veal and butternut squash were buried in a black truffle sauce that brilliantly straddled earthy and elegant.

Have you noticed a recurring theme here? White uses truffles like other chefs use salt and pepper. Which makes the price of dinner at Ai Fiori a pleasant surprise. The four-course dinner is $79, a hefty chunk of change, yes, but a bargain for food and service of this quality.

The menu also includes ravishing ravioli stuffed with ricotta and mascarpone cheeses in a red wine glaze; a rustic-regal braised beef cheek “daube” (a classic French stew); and a rack of lamb that outshines all other racks of lamb.

Served as individual chops, the lamb is wrapped in a cloak of ground breast meat and foie gras that’s sealed in caul fat, deco-ed with flattened parsley. It’s a majestic production, with amazing flavors and tongue-tickling textures, and I loved every bite. (Photo from Time Out New York magazine.)

There isn’t a lot to say about the décor at Ai Fiori. The colors are neutral, muted and not terribly memorable. But the tables are well-spaced, chairs are comfortable, and the second-floor views of Fifth Avenue are captivating. Service is friendly, and professional without being pompous.

Let the bucolic bistro trend rage. I know where I’ll be going for a now-and-then shot of sophistication, style and sensational food.

 

 

Top Three Meals of 2011: BIN 941

In August, after the two-day, 200-mile RSVP Bike Ride, I finally got to experience Bin 941, a Vancouver, B.C. restaurant that my sons have been raving about for years. It lived up to all the hype and then some. Here’s what I wrote about the experience: 

"Since Bin 941, officially dubbed a “Tapas Parlour” doesn’t take reservations, we settled in at the eatery’s bar and celebrated our accomplishment with gin and tonics and the Goat Cheese House-Dried Tomato Salsa appetizer. One taste of the tangy spread, scooped up with outtasite Navajo Fry Bread, and I knew this meal would end up on my Best of 2011 list.

Once seated at our Lilliputian, bare wood table, we opted for  “British Columbia Coastal Mussels, Fresh Daily” that were swimming in a sea of spectacularly flavorful coconut milk, lemon zest and garam masala. (Just thinking about this dish again right now is making me crazy.) The mussels were succulent; the hunks of dunked grilled focaccia were lip-smacking good. Forget Seattle, hell, I’d bike  from San Diego to Vancouver to eat this dish again. (Photo from ShermansFoodAdventures.com)

Equally impressive were the “Original Tijuana Caesar” with luscious grilled crouton; and the Angus   Beef Short Rib that was so tender I thought it might fall apart even before I prodded it with my fork. Served with parsnip puree, mushroom-studded spinach salad and a smooth but spunky peppercorn Cabernet jus, this was a unique take on a ubiquitous dish.

Bin 941 is a weensy place, with no more than 7 or 8 tables along with a dozen or so bar stools. The “décor” is funky; the attitude friendly and no-fuss; the food, fabulous.  (Salad & Such average $8; all main Tapatisers are $17.) It’s best to visit with a small group…that way you can order a greater variety of dishes. It's also wise to visit with a fun-loving bunch since this place turns into party-central later in the evening.

                                

We wanted to order more --- fresh Pacific halibut with wild mushroom risotto; crab cakes with burnt orange chipotle sauce; olive-crusted lamb sirloin with potato latke; golden beets with truffled honey glaze. But the portions were large, the flavors intense, so we called it quits, leaving a lot of reasons to visit Bin 941 again."

TOMORROW: AI FIORI, NEW YORK CITY

Top Three Meals of 2011: BONDIR

Bond. Jason Bond. And whether he wants to shake it, stir it, puree or braise it, I want whatever it is he’s cooking.

This affable chef, who’s worked (according to his website) in everything “from slow-smoked BBQ to Relais & Chateaux,”  opened his first solo restaurant Bondir, in Cambridge in late 2010. I visited last spring and was in awe of his creativity, precision, and total lack of pretense. Each and every dish was special, extraordinary, really. And yet it was a dining affair without airs.  To me, sort of a French Laundry experience without the narcissism. No need to genuflect before the food, to worship the super-chefs. Bond and his staff encourage guests to enjoy their friends and conversation along with the stellar fare.

                                    

Located in Cambridge, on the edge of Central Square and a stone’s throw from MIT, Bondir is a pretty little place, sort of an urban farmhouse, with a blazing fire to greet you just inside the door. Extra logs are stacked neatly under antique benches around the room. Well-spaced tables are set simply with a single flower and mismatched plates decorated with flowers and fruits.

The menu changes every day, and has just eight or nine dishes in total. Other than the soup and salad, all courses come in two sizes, allowing  a group of, say, four people, to sample just about everything. Luckily I was with friends who know and appreciate good food and wine, and who were willing to share, both bites and opinions.

Our adventure started with silky-smooth spring parsnip soup to which a weensy bouquet of celery and bergamot (a type of bitter orange) added depth of flavor; roasted hazelnuts, crunch. The evening’s salad was an inspired mingling of spice-poached beets, wispy greens, pumpkin seeds, blood orange and a buttermilk vinaigrette that sparred playfully with the spices.

Sweet, pan-seared scallops from Scituate, an waterfront town south of Boston, were paired with burdock root (an earthy cousin of the artichoke) and rutabaga puree, creating a dynamic interplay of textures.

Hand-rolled garganelli pasta was sauced with a delicate sorrel-infused cream, the citrusy tang of the herb brightening the flavors of the Berkshire ham and Georgia peas that dotted the creation. And luscious buttery grits and a pesto made with Vidalia green onions made a fabulous braised chicken from Vermont even better. While I’m not a huge fan of duck breast, a small bite of my friend’s Roasted Mallard Duck with Vidalia onions, Calypso beans and White Flint Corn Cake gave me reason to re-evaluate that mindset.

Bondir’s desserts were no less exciting. I loved the brilliant version of pear tart (a crostata here), a dessert I normally avoid because the odds of it being good are about the same as the Sox making it to the post-season. Bond poaches local pears in red wine until tender, tucks them into flaky pastry and anoints the still life with almond cream and lemon mousseline. (This photo is from FoodieMommy.com.)

But I really, really loved the Tangerine Dream, a fragile genoise cake harmonizing with thyme-scented buttermilk ice cream, vermouth-infused tangerine, and a glossy, golden meringue brulee.

Bondir’s wine list offers delicious flights of fancy, including a Spätburgunder from Germany, a St. Laurent from Austria and an Aglianico from Italy. Wine prices are very gentle, with the majority under $50.  There’s also an impressive selection of microbrew beers in bottles.

When I arrived at Bondir, I figured it to be a cozy, casual neighborhood place where I'd drop in often if I lived around the block. I quickly discovered that the very special food and inviting ambiance make it equally suited to celebratory occasions. Or, in the words of the Michelin Man,  "worth a special journey."

TOMORROW: BIN 941, VANCOUVER, B.C.

 

The Great Gastro-Adventure of 2011

When our group of 8 hikers – tired but giddy over the day’s accomplishments - arrived at Fuciade Hütte late one afternoon last June,  we expected bare-basic accommodations and simple, hearty fare. Instead, we got the gastro-adventure of 2011.

We had left Sottoguda, a quaint one-block town in Italy's imposing Dolomite mountains, that morning -- five physicians, two nurses, this food writer, and our bergführer (mountain guide) Roman Profanter. The day’s planned route included a trek up and over the dramatic stony mass called the Forca Rossa, but that plan was soon scratched when it started to rain and heavy grey clouds obscured all signs of mountains in that direction.  Instead, we took a 20-minute taxi ride to a hiking trail deep in the forest and started to climb a series of hills and peaks heading for our next overnight stop, Rifugio Fuciade. (In this part of Italy, the Alto Adige or Südtirol, both Italian and German are spoken. Hütte and Rifugio both refer to the simple but often spectacular houses with rooms and food along the trails.)

Our hopes for a yummy lunch at the hut proposed by Roman were dashed when we discovered a sign in the window of the darkened hut: Closed for a family funeral. We waited out a cacophonous thunder and lightning storm, huddled under the building’s eaves, and “lunched” on the goodies one couple had brought along: bread from the breakfast buffet, a bit of salami and cheese, and homemade “gorp” with M&Ms.

We spend the rest of the afternoon climbing, in and out of woods, in and out of drizzle. Even in black-and-white, the vistas were spectacular. Finally, after a particularly challenging downhill scramble, we rounded the proverbial corner and came face to face with Fuciade Hütte with its Heidi-esque balconies, geraniums, lace-curtains, playground and tiny wooden chapel.

The Italian-speaking owner and her huge black dog greeted us warmly, took our muddy boots to the  boot-dryer and showed us to our rooms on the second floor. (Fuciade Hütte has only 7 or 8 rooms, with rustic furnishings and small but nice bathrooms.) After hot showers and catnaps, we gathered in the bar for aperitifs and card games, then went to our assigned table, exquisitely set with local linens and Italian glassware.

The salad should have been a tip-off that this was not going to be a normal mountain hut repast, usually a salad, meaty dish and homemade cake or strudel.  Chef Rossi's elegant salad of fine, leafy greens was dotted with paper-thin shavings of green apple and fresh herbs, and was followed by a robust vegetable soup that we all agreed we would have killed for at lunch time.

Next came homemade lasagna, with gossamer noodles and deer ragu, and, sharing the plate, a well-seasoned barley risotto, with perfectly al dente grains and translucent shavings of parmesan.

As the proverbial happy campers, we toasted our good fortune with delicious local wines, and commented, not complained, mind you, but commented on how few vegetables we had eaten in the past couple days. Boom, out came the “main course” – a bowl of five or six kinds of bright, butter-blessed vegetables, accompanying a Brobdingnagian veal shank called Stinco di Vitello. 

                                            

The glossy, crusty meat fell off the bone into shiny natural juices as the platter was passed around the table. Every caramelized nubbin of meat brought oohs and aahs from the stunned audience. But there was still more: Steaming slabs of polenta with a wild mushroom ragu, which I tasted enough of to know that it was fabulous and that I would regret the next day that I hadn’t eaten more.

Three or four  homemade desserts, including an impressive, egg-white-fluffed buckwheat cake with homemade jam, and a picture-perfect pear tart came next in the parade. Since no one could eat more than a bite, we were all thrilled to see them again the next morning on the breakfast buffet, that also featured a nice cheese plate and sensational breads baked on the premises.

Dazzled by our gastro-adventure of the previous night, and the brilliant blue skies that greeted us that morning, we set out for another day of trekking in the Dolomites.

                                              

(Though Fudicade Hutte, built in 1960, appears to be in the boonies, it is accessible by foot (both hiking and skiing) and via a rickety, red contraption (like a snowplow) that ferries diners along the long dirt path to the "state" road.  I'm told that the owners, Sergio and Emanuela Rossi and their grown children, serve 300 people for lunch and another 100 for dinner on a busy July day. But in late June, we, and one other single hiker, were the only overnight/dinner guests.  The Rossis smoke and age all their own meats, make all pasta, breads and desserts, and maintain an impressive wine cellar.)