Bacon Chocolate Chip Cookies !!!!!! August 29, 2008

     My first experience pairing chocolate with something salty happened when I was younger at a Chanukah party at my house.  My friends brought dessert, and after such a filling meal, the prospect of fitting another course into my stomach was daunting, especially after seeing what they brought.  A dense and dark flourless chocolate torte sat mockingly on our dining room table.  However, I didn’t let my full stomach get in the way of having a piece. 

    It looked so good that I didn’t even take the time to grab a new plate, so I used my original, which was still litered with remnants of my dinner.  After the first few bites of cake, I was jonesing from the richness.  Now, the “balance of flavors conscience” inside my head craved salt.  With one fell swoop of my fork, I gathered up a bite of chocolate torte and latke–the salty potato pancake–in one.  It was actually a good combination, and the latke was just the thing to get down the rest of that cake. 

     Since then, I have tried sweet and savory combinations often, as they have risen in popularity.  I am also a big fan of the Bacon Chocolate Bar at Vosges in New York. 

     The last time I was making chocolate chip cookies, I spotted a container of leftover rendered bacon pieces in my refrigerator.  Since they were already cut up into small bits, I dumped them into the cookie dough along with some fleur de sel.  After forming the cookies, I sprinkled them with some maple sugar and Australian Sea Salt and put them in to bake.  At the end of their time in the oven, a heavenly smell enveloped the kitchen.  It was the harbinger of delectablility; the cookies themselves were fantastic. 

     I will be tempted to make them again every time I reach for the chocolate chip cookie recipe, but I will be lucky to convince friends to eat them with me.

Bar Boulud August 21, 2008

Wednesday, August 13th was to be a day of fun in New York.  I was to go into the city with my mom, pick up my brother (who I had not seen in over a month) from his camp bus, and to then meet my friend for a G.Love and the Special Sauce concert.  While this day was clearly going to be on steroids, as one can assess from its mere description, it did not include any premeditated culinary experiences–until we walked a couple blocks from our parking garage. 

I almost walked past the large, wooden barrel juttinng from the side of the restaurant.  However, when I was close enough to make out the name engraved on it, I realized that I had luckily stumbled upon one of the names high on my restaurant “hit list.”  Bar Boulud, a more massive establishment than I had been expecting, as a result of its seasonal outside seating, lured me towards its maitre d’. 

No sooner had the restaurant opened for lunch than my mother and I selected a two-top on the threshhold of the indoor seating, so that half of our table was open to the sidewalk.  A kind waiter with a French accent brought us menus and drinks. 

While we sized up the menu, I appraised the selection of charcuterie that I had so longed to try since hearing of the exploits of Gilles Verot, the mastermind behind it all.  Our appetites being of less than epic proportions, we decided to share the small selection of charcuterie and each order a salad.  The platter arrived first, along with a basket of warm, toasted whole wheat bread. 

Unfortunately, the waiter did not tell us what kind of terrine each sample portion was, but I was luckily able to demystify them by taste.  We were given wedges of the beef cheek terrine with pistachios and onions; the rabbit terrine with carrots and zuchinni; and the pate grand-mere with chicken livers, pork, and cognac.  There were also a few slices of house-made ham, along with small portions of carrots with corriander and celery-apple remoulade.  All of this was served with grainy mustard and pickles, both of which are classic and delectable additions to charcuterie.

We loved all of the offerings on the dish for a variety of reasons.  The pate grand-mere was rich and smooth, combining all of the qualities of a fine pate.  Both the beef cheek and the rabbit terrines employed gelatin as their stabilizer.  While the beef cheek could have been a little more tender (each fiber of meat was a little dry), it was satisfying, especially with the delicious and adorable onion confit (made from small pearl onions).  The rabbit terrine was sufficient testimony as to why rabbit is so often paired with carrots; the two were evidently complimentary. 

The last article of meat on the plate was the ham.  This country ham, Parisian style, was more tender and flavorful than most ordinary hams we produce in America.  It is my gloomy prediction, however, that this treat will remain overshadowed by its competitors from French-bordering nations that the menu offers.  Both prosciutto and ibérico hams are offered on the menu, and because both are so popular, especially the currently novel Iberico, the house made ham will most likely be overlooked, which is a shame. 

As for the accompaniments, both the carrots and the apple-celery remoulade were delicious.  Personally, the carrots were more appealing than the remoulade, as the subtle and aromatic corriander evoked Morrocan undertones.  The carrots were also cooked to perfection, and my guess is that they had been glazed with clarified butter, a trick that adds richness and shine to all vegetables.  The remoulade was refreshing, although for me the carrots outshined it. 

Our salad courses were light and fresh.  Mine was a bright bed of arugula, topped with scant portions of grape tomatoes, fennel, olives, radish shavings, fried artichokes, and white anchovies.  All of the components were fantastic, and although the amount of each was not generous, it all added up into a beautiful whole.  In an era where a mountain of cobb salad at the local cafe is king, the beautiful citizens of the court– Boulud’s seductive and delicate versions–are overlooked. 

Although the meal size was not gargantuan, we did not see dessert on our horizon.  Content, we resolved to return to the restaurant–especially after spying the tempting boudin blanc at the table behind ours on the way out.  Even though the charcuterie has been touted as better than the entrees, I am curious.  I will be back for dinner, for I am propelled by the buzz about the pate grand-pere, a courser and richer counterpart to its wife, the pate grand-mere that I enjoyed at lunch. 

While I have heard less than spectacular reviews of the entrees that sound so perfect on the menu, I am in high hopes of returning to Bar Boulud to leave with the opposite reaction.

Café Matisse August 21, 2008

Although I have long desired to dine at Café Matisse, I had as of yet been unable to do so.  However, upon my return from Hungary, I was pleasantly surprised to be informed of a pending dinner reservation there.  Ever intrigued by the restaurant’s take on a tapas-style menu, I wondered if the list-like menu of small plates would satiate a hungry and hard-to-please omnivore.  After all, the menu read rather short.

When I first set foot in the restaurant, my sister and I were shown to a table, while my parents were promptly whisked away for an impromtu wine-tasting in the wine store, which was conveniently located in the front of this BYOB restaurant.  My parents had come prepared with a bottle of wine, and I had brought along my new friend and corkscrew, Máté.  However, to my chagrin, when the waiter poured their wine, he blatantly ignored Máté, conspicuously chosing to use his holier-than-thou metal version.  In addition to this unfortunate situation, he removed both my sister’s and my own wine glass from the table, “to remove temptation.”  While this is a very smooth way of enforcing the law, I think that the difference between having the glasses and not is equal to that of whether or not we risk aquiring meningococal meningitis from our parents.  A taste of wine is complementary to a meal, and therefore it is unwise to remove my glass, as it may soil my experience at the offender’s restaurant. 

While munching on warm bread with butter and olive oil, we perused the menu.  As I mentioned previously, it was a continuous list of small plates.  One choses either a three course, four course, or five course “grazing” meal, and one of the courses is reserved for dessert.  For some this is unfortunate, as the selections on the menu seem sufficient.  Although one may want three savory courses, they would then be obligated to order a fourth dessert course.  However, we cannot gripe too much–how else can the pastry chef be guaranteed work?

The menu offered a vast selection of dishes, ranging from fish plates to more carnivorous choices.  I ordered a scallop dish to start.  It was possibly the most delicious scallop dish I have yet experienced, rivaled only by certain prototypes from wd~50 and Julia’s Kitchen at COPIA in Sonoma, CA.  The scallops were juicy, with a hard-seared and crispy exterior.  They rested atop a “pineapple upside down cake,” and they were complimented by some date and cherry jam and capped off with foie gras mousse.  Everything was spectacular, but I was less than pleased with the way I was deprived from getting my “foie fix.”  The mousse was minimal in the dish, so the taste of foie gras was not present in every bite.  Although that was unfortunate, I thought that the pineapple upside down cake’s flavor and texture worked very well with the scallops. 

My next dish was orange-braised short ribs over a scallion pancake with soft-shell crab and potato confit, an apple-ginger slaw and two sweet and savory sauces.  The dish was delicious, although it was almost as complicated as it sounds.  The scallion pancake was more of a folded-up crepe, and while it was delicious, its only direct correlation to the dish was perhaps its Asian inspiration.  However, the crab and short-rib paired beautifully, and the potato confit (a euphemism for pomme puree or MASHED POTATOES–the word ever avoided by restaurants for fear that it will evoke memories of Hungry Jack nastiness)  was perfect in texture but almost wanting a little more butter and salt.  As a whole, the dish was very successful, and I was hard pressed to find a reason not to finish every last bite, besides the upcoming third course. 

Luckily, as I was not craving anything sweet to top off my meal, since I was so enjoying the savory dishes previously described, there was a menu item from the dinner menu that carried over to the sweet menu.  Standing in for the cheese course was a foie gras dish in which foie gras terrine was dusted with cocoa powder and served over a camembert “foam” with figs on top.  The dish was superb; it was balanced, and it was savory and sweet at the same time.  In addition, I finally hit that foie high that I did not quite achieve with the first course of my meal. 

One other particularly notable offering that the restaurant had was its signature hazelnut cappucino.  Made by blending fresh hazelnuts to an extremely fine consistency and adding cream and coffee, the drink was ethereal and embodied everything a hazelnut cappuccino ideally should.  It was distinctly rich, but an indulgence in which it is worth partaking. 

The worst part of the restaurant wasits overall look and its pushy to the point of snobbery wait-staff.  While our waiter seemed somewhat affable, he was also very loquacious and his mannerisms slightly dogmatic.  As for the decor, let’s just leave it at this: my sister and I sat in a cushioned booth-seat and were attacked by over-upholestered pillows.  The design was over-done and extremely flamboyant, but luckily a diner who eats well can afford to ignore it.

Cafe Matisse is a delicious dining establishment, and although some of its habits and styles are esoteric or eccentric, there is no doubt that I would be glad to return.