Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Chicago: The Publican

I've been looking forward to this dinner for about a week now. I arrived in Chicago forty eight hours ago, hoping for some rejuvenation from my friends Charlie and D who moved out here last month. Usually I would rely on New York to provide distraction, but as it turns out, New York isn't for me right now. So, HELLLLLO CHICAGO. I wondered out loud yesterday if Chicago is America's hidden treasure, and then was lovingly reminded that millions of people live here and that Chicago is one of America's most influential cities. I mean, OBAMA is from here for god's sake. So if I'm a little slow on the uptake, at least now I'm in on this well known secret.

After the great disappointment that Rick Bayless' restaurants are closed on Mondays, Charlie came to the rescue (as he always does) by recommending The Publican in Fulton Market. A publican is a tavern keeper, yet as we stumbled through an area that screamed of organized crime but smelled of chocolate, we realized that The Publican is no normal tavern. Despite the long wooden tables and extensive beer list, The Publican's clean feel and product focused menu reinvents the tavern for the contemporary consumer who cares about more than pints and meatloaf.

Our waiter-- who may or may not have hated us-- brought us to our table, and then promptly locked us inside. The Publican offers side booths with wooden saloon doors, which really allowed us to focus on our private dining experience. We almost forgot that other people in the restaurant existed! It was amazing. Just a quaint little wooden box for three, what more could we need?

We began with beer, then Charlie's wine selection ["grenache, because white wine is only for getting drunk"], and then bread and butter. I love butter. That's all I have to say about that.



The Publican's menu focuses on pork and shellfish, which for the Jewish eater may prove a little tricky. Luckily, my kosher allegiances stop once shellfish is on the menu, so I still had many options at my disposal. Yet the porkcentric elements of the menu were too much for the boys to resist, and so our meal commenced with some good old fashioned pork rinds. I can't even imagine what these taste like, but I think it's probably something like pork fat fried into a chip and covered in chili. deeeeeelish, apparently.


For my appetizer choice, I opted for the fried perch with fried green tomatoes, lemon, parmesean and tartar sauce. The Publican suggests that most items be shared, so we all dug in with fervor. WOW. The perch was so tender, the green tomatoes so fresh, the parmesean a perfect complement to both... mmm. Since the Publican's menu specifies where each ingredient comes from, it is relevant to note that the perch itself comes from Lake Erie, and The Publican's owners probably tasted a lot of fish before deciding that Lake Erie's were the best. As our waiter said, "the chefs don't matter, the recipe doesn't matter, only the product matters". So while all the ingredients may not be local, they certainly are America's top quality ingredients. And as D intelligently pointed out, "it is local where it comes from".

Next, our forks dove into soft shell crab atop a shrimp-leek galette with lemon aioli. Soft shell crab is Charlie's favorite food, so this dish was a must. [side note: Charlie's second favorite food is hard shell crab.] I don't know how we ended up with so much fried food, but probably because I was the one ordering. Why I've never eaten soft shell crab before is beyond me, but trust me, I'll never skip over it again. You can just EAT THE WHOLE THING. It's so... carniverous. And yet, so delicate. I love it.


The boys reverted back to Suckling Pig as their entree. Ew. I mean, I'm sure it was good, but whatever.
YES! FISH TIME AGAIN. We chose the golden trout, whose insides were pink as a salmon, fried to a perfection and topped with cherry tomatoes and onions. This was amazing. First of all, it must be emphasized that Charles Kurose can gut and clean a trout in twenty seconds. What a hunk. The Publican's trout, which is probably only slightly more sophisticated than Charlie's trouts, is fried whole but without the bones, allowing the diner to just cut the fish right through, eating juicy pink meat with a crunchy fried skin. And then the geniuses in back just stick whole vines of cherry tomatoes right on top. It's so real! Tomatoes on the vine! Marvelling at the garden like purity of this plate was almost satisfying enough. But, obviously, it tasted great too.


As a side, we ordered the corn, which was made Mexican style with parmesean, chili, lime and aioli. THIS WAS SUCH A WINNER. The corn is grilled in butter, covered in aioli, and then dusted with parm and chili and lime. It's... brilliant. And although this can be bought from a street cart for two bucks, it's defintely worth the eight dollars at the Publican. The waiter explained that The Publican uses the street food recipe, yet replaces mayo with aioli and uses less butter and chili. When I asked him the difference between mayo and aioli, he confidently responded that Mayo is just the brand name for aioli. Since I was in complete shock at the revelation that Mayo is the same as Kleenex, Bandaids and QTips, I completely missed the fact that this makes absolutely no sense. As it turns out, our waiter was wrong. Mayo just has egg and aioli is olive oil and garlic. Annnnyway... ORDER THIS. Street food or restaurant style, it's incredible.



This meal was superb.


I would just like to leave this post with a quote from the back of The Publican's free post cards. Despite the fact that I don't eat pork, I find this poem the perfect way of describing the Publican's ability to take its food very seriously and still have fun at the same time. This is a great restaurant. Anyway, here goes:

"Here's to the Swine/ That animal divine/ who through mud and slime/ Grit and Grime/ Gorges over time/ Into Meats Sublime"

Thank you, thank you very much

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

Goat Cheese at Hazorea

Kibbutzim are not usually known for gourmet cuisine. The Kibbutz chader ochel daily produces mass quantities of food for its members, which typically results in a buffet the common meat dishes with an assortment of salatim on the side. I have a soft spot in my heart for this kind of eating, where every meal exemplifies the kind of community living that is at its best on Kibbutz. That being said, when I trekked up north last weekend to Kibbutz Hazorea, I was blown away by the food surprises Hazorea has to offer.

At the base of Hazorea lies a magical little wood shack filled with goat cheese. That was a ridiculous sentence to write, but it's true.

Inside the doors of "Goat Cheese from Hazorea", which is only open on Saturdays, hides the freshest bread, jam, and goat cheese you can dream of. Hard cheeses, soft cheeses with spices, cheese spreads... everything. The bread is fluffy, thick, and soft; filled with olives, nuts or seeds. Everything tastes like it was made that morning, as though the food was made just for me to come and enjoy.









There is one woman in charge, and after letting you sample every type of cheese imaginable, she will lovingly construct you a sandwich. After selecting the bread, you can choose whichever and however many cheeses your heart desires (I went with one hard cheese made with wine and a chive filled soft cheese). Then, you can choose between pesto, olive spread, and sundried tomato spread (I chose all three). And finally, you can add grilled peppers, eggplant, tomato, cucumber or lettuce. Everything is handmade right in front of you; each ingredient carefully placed and organized in order to construct the perfect sandwich.






Then, placed on a rustic wood cutting board, with a garnish of fresh olives, that magical woman presents you with your masterpiece:

This sandwich is almost too good to be ruined with trying to explain it in words. Because of the care taken in its construction, each bite contains every element and your mouth never misses any part. The bread by itself is enough to rave about, but when all the ingredients come together, this sandwich becomes a sandwich unlike any other. The freshest, most wholesome, hearty meal that a little farm has to offer. And really, an experience like this could only happen on kibbutz. There is no better way for kibbutznikim to relish shabbat than to take a minute to enjoy their own labor, to appreciate the delicacies their work produces. Where else do we get the chance to slow down like this?

Monday, June 21, 2010

East Orleans, Cape Cod

You know your body is in for a roller coaster when you go on vacation to a place where most meals come out looking like this...

.... and most of the menus look something like this....



MMMMM.... fried seafood....

Jamie and I just got back from a week on Cape Cod, the magical tip of Massachusetts where mini-golf is competitive and biking never seems to get tiring. We stayed at the most beautiful little house, complete with cable TV and a grill! What could be better? Every morning, we woke up and sat outside drinking coffee and reading the New York Times (Jamie: front section/business, Zoe: Dining In/ crossword), and then Jamie would fry up some french toast with my homemade raisin challah. Sometimes, he'd even throw a slice of American cheese on top just to take advantage of vacation-justified gluttony. mmmmm... to be young, in love, and fat in the summer!

Eating on Cape Cod is its own little adventure. My mom theorizes that the cape re-defined our family's eating traditions, creating our own "New England Kosher Style". Still no pork- but shell-fish in the summer on the cape: allowed!

I obviously arrived with very important eating check-list in hand. Jamie can attest that the very notion of missing even one seafood item was utterly intolerable. So, to make sure we covered it all, Jamie succumbed to my mania and we only ate in once the whole week. [Don't worry! We made good use of the grill during Celtics Game 7-- sob-- eating huge half pound Ju(i)cy Lucys!]

Fried Scallops were my first requirement. These succulent little poppers are like candy in your mouth. If cooked correctly, the tenderness of the meat coupled with the crunchy outside shell makes these rich devils such a treat. Of course, a whole plate of fried scallops and french fries can also cause a severe stomach ache so I highly recommend a good helping of cole slaw and a fruity beer to balance out the friedness. Oh man, fried scallops, what did I do to deserve thee?


Jamie most looked forward to the clam chowder. He believes that the Cape has the freshest clam chowder in the world, and he searches for little grains of sand at the bottom of his bowl just to prove himself right. We bought this cup at a roadside stand in Ptown, poured in a whole pack of oyster crackers, and two minutes later, this soup lay warmly in our bellies...


Despite his love of clams, though, Jamie can't really stomach the idea of oysters. Since I intellectually believe that loving oysters is a prerequisite for all foodies, I orderded myself a plate anyway. Since this isn't an "R" month, though, I limited myself to only four. Eating them without the cocktail sauce like a true Francophile, of course, these slipperies slid right down my throat and oozed that salty, Wellfleet sea water happily down into my tummy. Worth the ten bucks for sure.

Here come more clams for Jamie! Fried. Fried. Fried. Look at that plate! Good thing we biked seventeen miles the next day or else he'd still be comatose.

Even though lobster season hasn't quite hit its peak yet, I couldn't resist the Lobster Fettucine Alfredo. I know, I know, I should send this plate into thisiswhyyourefat.com. But, cmon! It's summer time. And what goes better with the richest, most decadent, shellfish thats ever existed than some good, old fashioned cream, butter and cheese?? Sigh. Just thinking about that creamy piece of lobster claw makes me melt.

.... still thinking about that lobster?
Me too.

Ok, moving on. On our last night, my mom treated the two of us to dinner at Abba, an Israeli-Thai fusion restaurant in Orleans. Delicious! After a little scotch (Jamie) and prosecco (Zoe) introduction, we set right in: beet/fried goat cheese salad for me, and grilled scallops over eggplant puree with grapefruit sauce for Jamie. Yum yum yum. Finally some veggies for this self-indulgent couple! Yes! Next came the Thai influence: steak filet with green curry noodles for Jamie, and seafood stew in thai basil broth for me. Both of our dishes were wonderfully executed, laden with subtle flavors and good quality proteins. A few lessons, though, we should always order meat medium-rare, and it's important to clarify a dish's spiciness before you order it. No complaints though, an all around wonderful meal. And on such a cute little (bug-free!) outdoor terrace. Thanks Mom.











Sadly, all vacations must end eventually. Time for a little seafood detox and real life again. Slowly meandering our way off the cape, we stopped at a few tag sales and... FOUR SEAS ICE CREAM. Probably the best ice cream ever created [only a slight exaggeration] we got in line with all the four year olds and ordered black raspberry, fresh strawberry and mint chocolate chip. Don't ask me why the latter comes out a bright pink color, I don't know the answer but I trust Four Seas anyway.


Look at us! Such happy ice cream eaters!

Until next summer, Cape Cod. Thanks for the salty air and the shellfish.

In case you're interested:
http://www.abbarestaurant.com/
http://www.fourseasicecream.com/
http://www.arnoldsrestaurant.com/

Tuesday, March 30, 2010

Emeril's Miami Beach

On our recent spring break trip to Miami, Chris, Jenny and I took a side trip to Emeril's Miami Beach. Emeril Lagasse, the head honcho of New Orleans cuisine, took his cajun-style and transported it sea side to the glorious sands of Miami. Combining his classic fare with a fun-in-the-sun attitude, Emeril succeeds in bringing some spice into your midday beach experience... which really only prompts you to pass out in the sand with a beer in hand. Mmmm.... spring break!

We entered the restaurant after a quick search (iphone aided, of course) and were greeted by this smiling face:

... and we knew that it was EMERIL TIME! BAM!

Going for lunch meant our entrees were mainly sandwiches, but we decided to go all out and order appetizers in order to really make the experience worth while.

Foley ordered the barbeque shrimp, which ended up being great of course, but only came with four pieces of shrimp. For a growing boy like Chris, this was disappointing. Luckily, Jenny ordered a heaping pile of fried calamari and there was enough food for all. These were calamari like no other: covered in tomato sauce and olives, it was an abundance of Greek-Cajun fusion. We debated whether these beauties were finger food or fork food, but really, the calamari was just a race to the finish... fork or finger, we just wanted them in our mouths! Lastly, I ordered the parmesan oysters. I've only ever eaten raw oysters before, but these were garlicky and cheesy while still retaining their fresh ocean flavor, and I just wanted to drink them up.



As for our mains, Foley had the chicken wrap, Jenny ordered the shrimp po boy, and I ended up with the blackened salmon sandwich. We all wanted to order something different so that we could take fullest advantage of Emeril's menu, but then we ended up misunderstanding Foley's sharing-standards and didn't eat any of his plates and didn't offer him any of ours. Oh well! It didn't matter at all, really, and we all were happy with our plates. Emeril can't really go wrong in our books. Also: please note how amazingly thin the home made potato chips are!



At this point, we were all stuffed, but couldn't forsake Emeril's famous banana cream pie. THIS IS THE BEST THING I HAVE EVER EATEN IN MY WHOLE LIFE. Thick and creamy, filled with banana, and topped with caramel and chocolate, I wanted every bite to last for hours. I started to get delirious as I kept delicately sneaking spoonfuls into my mouth... and by the end, I felt like banana and cream was seeping out of my pores... but OH MY GOD, was it worth it! I will never again in my life eat banana cream pie like this one... ahhh.

Now in complete delirium from food coma, we decided to mimick Emeril's classic BAM motion to express gratitude for such a delicious afternoon:

BAM!
BAM!

BAM! BAM! BAM!