Restaurant Week Winter 2010: Del Posto

Princess for a few hours

Walking into Del Posto, Mario Batali's newish upscale Italian (what else!?) restaurant, you feel like you're entering the palatial receiving room of royalty, or at least ancient nobility. The service doesn't quite make you feel like you yourself are royalty, but it does at least feel as if you might be royalty's guest.

For someone who usually eats lunch out of Tupperware at her desk, royalty's guest isn't half bad. It is true that no matter how much I may look like I fit in at restaurants that cater to...people who never eat lunch out of Tupperware at their desk, I know deep down inside I'm just a pretender. But once seated, sipping the gratis grapefruit juice bellinis served in champagne flutes to every table, some of the dis-ease slipped away and for a few hours, I did feel a little like a princess.


The bellinis were a lovely touch. I wouldn't have ordered a drink--not only because it was lunch & I had to get back to work. Remember, I'm Tupperware girl. But it felt very chic (and perhaps, princessy?) to have a pink glass on my table.

The wait staff was kind enough, but it felt, just a little, like we weren't quite as important as other tables. Perhaps I'm projecting my slight sense of feeling out of place onto what was, in reality, perfectly good service, but at times it felt like the smiles and banter directed to the wealthy Cuban couple to the right, the overwhelming attentiveness to the elderly couple to the left were superb, whereas we were simply seen to.

I was especially taken aback when my dining partner's pork was quite underdone, and rather than spring to attention to rectify the situation, two waiters simply stood by our table, confused. (Though they eventually replaced the pork with another main).

But take this minor complaint in stride. The overall experience was a delight; I left feeling pampered, like I'd spent much more on the experience than the $24.07 (+ tax & tip) it actually cost. The ambiance is stately but not staid. And the food? Well. The food was GOOD. Real, real good.


Taste & See: The bread was warm and served with a small dishes of delicious butter (we were informed of the cow's geographic origins) and aged balsamic.


First courses:

Winter roasted vegetables with dandelion greens, truffled hazelnut dressing, and an "Sformato" (unformed- that is, loose, not molded or shaped) robiola, a soft Italian cheese made of the milk of cow, goat and sheep. It was very satisfying and the texture of the vegetables was excellent.


Warm Cotechino, a house-made sausage made of pork with an Umbrian lentil vinaigrette and dried fruit "mostarda," or mustard. The sausage was very flavorful, despite it's pale hue, but it was the dried fruit mostarda that stood out; I could have eaten a whole pot of it. The lentils provided a nice, earthy contrast--though I may have preferred that flavor in something without so much texture.

We did not try Pasta e Fagioli, described as "a hearty soup of white beans, pasta & breadcrumbs, and Tuscan cabbage marmellata."

Main courses:

Slow roasted Pork (Heritage USA loin of Berkshire pork), served with a sunchoke puree, grilled prosciutto and lambrusco conserva. This was simply fantastic. The pork itself was done beautifully (except for my friend's little undercooked problem)-tender, moist. A dusting of sesame seeds provided a nice crunchy contrast. Just as with the fruit mostarda/lentils, the earthy sunchoke puree (how'd they think of *that*?) was, strangely, amazing, full of life, and a beautiful contrast to the sweet & acidic lambrusco--an Italian red wine grape--conserva.



Garganelli al Ragu Bolognese, hand made quill-shaped spinach pasta with what the menu proclaims to be Mario's favorite sauce, a stew of veal and pork, finished with tomato & Parmagiano-Reggiano. The pasta was light and had just the right amount of chewiness. The subtle spinach flavor was a great base for the depths of flavor in the sauce. Taking a bite felt like sitting by a fireside in a cottage somewhere in the Italian countryside on a winter's night.


We didn't order the seared filet of organic salmon with watercress salad, sauteed shallots, chestnuts, truffles and trumpets.

Dessert:

Against our waiter's recommendation, we both ordered the tartufo al caffe, a dark chocolate orb with Sant'Eustachio coffee and candied lemon. The lemon brightened the whole affair; it's slightly acidic pop really highlighted the sultry chocolate and coffee.



Delicious, but our waiter was disappointed we didn't try the Butterscotch semifreddo served with sour melon, blood orange and milk jam. Also available, a spina rossa polenta budino with huckleberry marmellata and vanilla gelato.

Wine pairings available for a further $24.07; Monday through Friday, year round, a three course prix-fixe lunch is available for $29.

After paying a mere $24.07 for our feast, we swept up our things and headed towards the door, only to be chased down by the hostess, who pressed the customary truffles into our hands. She turned my friend who'd had the undercooked meat, handing her another box: "Two for you, we're so sorry for your troubles."

Do it Yourself:

Del Posto is at 85 10th Ave; (212) 497-8090

We didn't have reservations; there were a fair number of tables for 2 open for lunch but reservations are otherwise recommended.

Better Together

Some foods were meant to be soulmates.

Taste & See: I thought of about five different titles for this post about delectable food pairings, but I seem to keep entitling my posts after songs so I figured might as well continue the trend. (See also: Exhibit A, Exhibit B.) But really, that's the crux of the matter: some food pairings are as enduring as one night stands; others are meant to be food soulmates, each flavor bringing out the full beauty and potential of its other half.

Caramel & fleur de sel is one such delectable pairing. Sweet, gooey caramel punctuated by coarse, grainy bits of salt is an unbeatable combination. (Gourmet mag, home of food photos glorious enough to frame, has a wonderful recipe. Oh Ruth Reichl, what must I do to make you want me?)

Fleur de sel is a sea salt obtained by harvesting the crystals from the top of the pond, literally. It smells oceany and has a higher mineral content than table salts- and tends to come in coarser grains. (Read about it compared to other salts for different foodie needs here. Salted caramels are conspicuously absent, to my dismay.) It is expensive, about $20/lb. But you can use kosher(ing) salt or any other big grainy salt for a close second in a pinch. No pun intended.

The prospects of the joyous combination tempted me to undertake the foolhardy feat of making caramels without a candy thermometer. The result was disastrous. Trying to "eyeball" when melted sugar and butter would, once cooled, become neither liquid nor hardened but a gooey, chewy cube of perfect caramel resulted in caramels with the consistency of peanut butter.

This is what they should look like, as made by my Auntie Rachel for a recent party celebrating my brother's wedding:


Auntie Rachel clearly has a candy thermometer.

You can't really see the grains on the caramels above; they were smaller and faded into the melty caramel. On this truffle, however, they stand out beautifully:


This is from Juliette et Chocolat, a gorgeous little chocolaterie in Montreal, (could be straight from the movie) with thick chocolate drinks and heavenly desserts.

Another lovely format for the sweet-salty combination, also from Juliette et Chocolat:


This is a single-serving molten chocolate cake with caramel sauce, sprinkled with fleur de sel. Joy! I copied this by adding a caramel in the center, which melted as the individual cakes (made in cupcake pans) baked. Super easy. (I won't reprint it here, but the recipe I used is available on allrecipes.com.)

I've been loving balsamic vinegar reduction & strawberries, which I've written about before, as well, often with a bit of chevre, a creamy goat cheese.

This is a strawberry daiquiri (limeaid + frozen strawberries + rum + blender) with a modified version of "Beggars Purses," something I had at a great tapas restaurant in Brooklyn called Cafe Tapeo. (Great date restaurant. Lovely ambiance, not too pricey, and inventive culinary creations, all of which hit the mark. I wanted to steal their entire menu, and have been trying to recreate parts of my meal ever since my visit.)


They stuffed wonton wrappers with goat cheese and crisped them up, topping them with a rosemary syrup. My local grocery store had only phyllo dough, and I mixed goat cheese with plain yogurt because I didn't have enough cheese. I also added honey, rosemary and chopped almonds for a sweet crunch.

First couple tries with the phyllo were a mess. My stuffing was far too liquidy to hold up to the paper thin phyllo. I had to put my 'wonton' in a ramekin to keep it from imploding.


My 'egg roll' attempt just bled stuffing all over the baking pan.


Finally, I tried laying whole stacked sheets of phyllo dough on the baking sheet, topping with spoonfuls of filling in a grid, and pressing a few more layers on top with butter as glue- like ravioli. I gently slid a knife along to cut the big squares into single-serving pieces, baked about 10 minutes, and drizzled with rosemary balsamic reduction.

Served with a bright strawberry daiquiri, tangy and sweet like the vinegar reduction itself- another winning pair.
When making balsamic reduction try adding a sprig or two of rosemary, letting the woodsy flavor seep in. The sweet reduced syrup with a hint of a forest atop a pile of fresh strawberries incredible. It also works as a summer salad, with sliced strawberries atop mache or spinach, and pecorino or chevre. Or, again, with chevre with a spoonful of honey mixed in, as a play on strawberry shortcake. I ate mine atop polenta; you could also try a toasted whole wheat muffin if you're not the kind of chef who makes fresh biscuits on a daily basis.


PS: I've always loved chocolate & chile as well. It is always great in mole, in winter as a hot drinking chocolate, or in the summer as gelato. Sadly I have no good photos in my repertoire and haven't cooked anything in this vein in a while.

My New Love Affair

"Those photos look like porn."

Taste & See: Have you ever seen a candid portrait of someone caught in a moment of pure, artless beauty? Not beauty because the subject objectively is beautiful, but because the eye capturing the image views his subject generously, indeed, uncovers beauty in something that is, perhaps, quite ordinary to an untrained eye. The adoration is channeled into the resulting photograph; you see this image, and immediately perceive the photographer truly loves his subject.

This was my gut reaction to my own photographs of the Persian & pan-Mediterranean food below. When I first showed a friend a full-screen photo of the jumbo shrimp, below, she promptly responded: "Those photos look like porn." The roasted vegetables and grilled prawns are luscious, even lusty. Soft candlelight bathes the food, giving mere glimpses and shadowing the rest in a kind of hidden intimacy, to be known only with senses beyond sight. The food is, how do I say it . . . sexy, objects of my unabashed adoration all.

It began with a goodbye dinner for a Persian colleague this past summer in Bangkok. Or was it a birthday meal at the lovely Zatinya in DC last February snug around a fireplace as flurries of snow built up outside? Or . . . well, maybe this particular affair crept up surreptitiously. All I know is now I see my own photographs and know immediately I am in love.

This is still a rather recent obsession, so please pardon the lack of tried & true recipes as I get to know a new range and combination of flavors: cinnamon, cumin saffron, raisins, almonds, dates, lemon juice, garlic, parsley. For now, please feel free to lust after the food in the photographs. I'm not a jealous girl; I'm happy to share this particular affair with all who wish to partake.

Zatinya: I have seriously considered hopping aboard the Chinatown bus for the mere pleasure of a meal at Zatinya, conveniently located in DC's own Chinatown. I have no doubt the food fantasies would pass the hours there, and the sighs of contentment the hours home. In the mean time I content myself with a visit every time I'm in town. Zatinya serves mezze, small platters meant to be shared with the whole table. Their website kindly informs that:

"Mezze, also known as meze, maza and mezethes, are the small plates of the Eastern Mediterranean and the Middle East . . . the extensive menu reflects the rich, regional diversity of classical and contemporary Greek, Turkish and Lebanese cuisine. It wouldn’t be accurate to describe mezze as an appetizer. These small bites are not typically served preceding a meal. Mezze are better described as party food, a meal meant for socializing. The perfect thing to serve at gathering of friends and family. A drink, a little conversation and mezze shared by everyone at the table."

I am perfectly happy to oblige with the drink and conversation, though with such lovely dishes even the best of us may find ourselves hoping a sudden bout of illness among our dining partners forces us to enjoy all the food ourselves.

During my last visit we began with Sarikopite ($7), a butternut squash puree in phyllo over yogurt topped with arugula and a honey vinaigrette.


Lately I've been loving the crispy-outside creamy-inside contrast, present here. Mildly bitter arugula provided a second lovely contrast to the lightly sweet dressing and squash puree filling.


I have high hopes of recreating the dish below. The flavors involved-- jumbo shrimp, butter, parsley, garlic, olive oil-- have so much potential they hardly need a skillful chef to delight.


What they do require is a deft hand, patience & trust; one must cook only just to the precise moment the beautiful shrimp are done, but not rubbery. As with tuna, it is all too easy to make lovely raw ingredients utterly unappealing by mishandling. Avoiding this is a skill that only comes through practice . . . which means I'll just have to keep practicing this dish at home. How I suffer for my art.


Seared Sea Scallops with Yogurt-Dill Sauce ($8.50), like seared-tuna, take patience, precision and faith. You simply cannot overcook them or all the time gone into prep will be wasted, the meaty sweetness giving way to flavorless rubber. These, however, were gorgeous, just a bit of a caramelized crust seared on top.


The absolute highlight of the meal came while I was absentmindedly sampling the waiter-recommended Seasonal Mushrooms ($10). I had ordered them with great hesitation; how good could plain mushrooms be? Turns out, very good.


A light dose of high quality olive oil & slivered almonds bring out a rich, woodsy flavor in the mushrooms. But the true jewel came in an unexpected soft caramelly jolt that momentarily brought conversation to a standstill. I gazed heavenwards and shut my eyes to absorb the incredible flavor-- and my partner thought I was choking. No, just admiring a piece of luscious roasted date.


I kid you not, when a friend asked about my weekend, all I could think to report was, "I had an amazing date." It took me a minute to realize this statement was open to misinterpretation.

We finished with meat, clawing to the bone two Lamb Chops with Hommus Bil Toum ($11).


The grilled lamb chops were served with roasted garlic atop a chickpea puree. I feel there is no need to elaborate on the pleasure of eating this particular dish; lamb chops speak for themself.

I accompanied my meat with a Mavrodaphne/Merlot, Antonopoulos, Achaia, Greece ‘05 ($12) which was a bit heavy on the tannins at first sip, but smoothed out as it had some time to breathe. (For those unfamiliar with wine terminology, 'breathe' just means the wine has some exposure to air in the glass and mellows out a bit.

Ravagh: When I planned a recent outing for a group I was charged with finding something charming, approaching fancy, and cheap as possible. I did a favor to my reputation for good eats by choosing Persian food from Ravagh, on recommendation from D, a Persian friend who, along with half of Yelp, claims it is the best Persian food in the city.


D helped me concoct a set menu scanning a variety of delights, including some surefire hits destined to please the least-adventurous eaters, and a few entirely new dishes. But with suggestions like Pomegranate & Walnut Chicken over Crispy Rice how can one go wrong? Best of all, our spread of multiple appetizers & entrees from several different families of food was a mere $10 pp. My only complaint-- I was forced to share all these delights with a huge group of equally infatuated eaters, none of whom wanted to hold off until everything had been properly photographed. I suppose is it my culinary duty to return for more involved research.

Our menu included, among other things, Mast & Moosir, homemade yogurt with shallots ($3.50); Torshi, a plate of homemade pickled vegetables ($4.00); Kashk Bademjan, eggplant with tomato sauce, seasonings & yogurt sauce ($5.00); Ash Reshteh, a Persian soup with vegetables, chick peas & kidney beans ($4.00); various Kabobs, each of which come with rice, grilled vegetables and a side salad; and several stews, such as Khoresh Fesenjan, the aforementioned pomegranate walnut chicken ($12.00).

To start with, piles of warm Flatbread:


And Crudites for munching:


Those lusty Grilled Vegetables:




Meat Kabobs & heaping sides of Rice, no threat to anyone unsure of their readiness to venture too far out, but thanks to succulent flavors and tender meat, far from boring:


To my dismay, no one ended up being unadventurous and I had to share the more intriguing, richly flavored dishes with everyone else. Alas. The important thing was everyone got to try a little something new and wonderful. And that the food was so sexy, it made us feel like dancing . . . When was the last time you left dinner saying that?

Restaurant Week outing #3: Park Avenue Winter, Feb. 1

Every season brings a whole new set of reasons to visit.

Taste & See: As if I needed another reason to hit up Park Avenue [insert appropriate season], this restaurant practically demands a quarterly visit by changing everything- name, decor, layout, menus- to match the season, modeled after regions visited by Captain James Cook. I first visited with a prospective employer in Autumn:


[Photo credit: PAW website]

Restaurant Week seemed like the perfect time to see how Winter looks from Park Avenue.

Winter looks . . . well, white.


[Photo credit: PAW website]

The antler-chandeliers and fur-panels on the wall give off a hunting-lodge vibe, not a look I usually associate with Park & 63rd.



The restaurant feels cool and airy, all clean lines with spare glass and metal accents.



In PAW's own words:

"Park Avenue Winter includes a refined interpretation of the season, adding details such as lacquered panel moldings, coffers with mismatched plaster rosettes, vintage British military buttons and custom crystal and glass chandeliers. All of the polished architectural elements blend with more rustic items, such as elongated birch branches built into the lighting elements, raw leathers and white-washed woods. Winter pays homage in part to Cook's travels in the Antarctic Circle, combined with a classic drawing room aesthetic."

I can't say I noticed the plaster rosettes or vintage buttons, but I was nonetheless impressed. Even more impressive: apparently the change was made in just 48 hours.

One precaution: you might find the hostess & her fashionable, high-heeled crew a bit pretentious & the upper-crusty crowd a bit too used to the luxury, but don't let it put you off. Even faux gourmets like me can enjoy PAW; just save your pennies, make yourself a reservation, and focus on the food.

You'll be able to begin with this all-important task immediately, as the bread basket is half Whole Foods gourmand, half farm-girl abundance. I prefer the carrot-raisin loafs, personally.


Kudos to PAW for one of the most indulgent restaurant week menus I've seen-- remember, we pay $24.05 total for three courses-- printed in a hefty little bound book imprinted with a compass, PAW's logo. It included reasonable wine pairings, one of which was from a local (to my hometown) winery I've lauded on here more than once:


Like Mercer Kitchen, PAW revisits some classics, but did so with a twist that made each dish, and the experience as a whole, far more memorable. In addition to being delicious- I won't waste time on extraneous adjectives; for once, every single dish was amazing from start to finish- the food was extremely photogenic. Hence, the outburst below.

Starter options included Cured-Meyer Lemon Caesar Salad ($11) and Prosciutto with Asian Pear ($14).


I chose Porcini Ravioli, Swiss Chard, Gorgonzola Cream ($16). I don't even like Gorgonzola and I liked this. Between the bread and the generous appetizer portion, I could have been content to stop here.


But then I would have missed the exquisite (couldn't resist just one extraneous adjective) Cornbread Crusted Red Snapper ($25).



The down-home name belies the delicate crispy crunch just laying atop the perfectly flaky fish; the rainbow bed of blood orange and green onions . . .


The deep green olive oil and sweet rich balsamic swirled around the fruit . . .


I can't overstate how incredible this was. I did not, however, regret giving up half my dish for a half plate of Grilled Lamb Chops, Preserved Lemons, and Picholine Olives ($32). Perfectly tender, superbly done. Yes, yes, yes!


[Photo credit: J. Wang]

Another friend had Roasted Chicken "Coq au Vin," ($18) and you already know how I feel about restaurant roast chicken. But I admit, this was a bit more spectacular that the aforementioned MK, and my friend was quite satisfied.


[Photo credit: A. Bron]

I really didn't have room for dessert at this point, but when I saw my darling little dish of Coconut Panna Cotta with Macaroons (not available on regular menu) I made room. A Jewish friend eating with me says she'll never think of Macaroons as a 2nd-best Passover dessert again.



Also available Warm Walnut Gingerbread, Apple Puree, and Spiced Raisins and Cinnamon ($13).


I suppose I did not uphold my promise to avoid extraneous adjectives, though for me, the food was so well done, every single adjective was more than deserved.