Throwdown: Puck v. 750 ML

Two versions of one incredible dish
+ authentic French bistro fare

Taste & See: This is not a fair competition. Wolfgang Puck, celebrity chef with dozens of restaurants, vs. a cute little French bistro/wine shop in South Pasadena (that organizes its wine by adjective: luscious, divine, bodacious)? Totally not fair.

That said, the Sweet Corn Agnolotti I had at 750 ML the other night put up a darn good fight. The agnolotti didn't have quite the mascarpone-smoothness or summer-truffle magical fleeting flavor of WP's version but it was lovely in its own right, and a bit more in the league of the average gal than Spago. I liked the crunchy walnut bits and bright freshness of the leaves on top for contrasting texture and colour, though I wasn't sure what kind of leaves they were.


What's more, if you go to 750 ML you can look forward to a spunky waiter named Kip (I think . . . I was given the name after a long night of enjoying 750 ML's thoughtful wine list) who promised we'd like the bottle he recommended (and pronounced in a perfect French accent). . . and if we didn't, he'd take it to the back and drink it himself. Way to take one for the team.


Ask for bread; it comes only on request but those who ask are in for a treat.

750 ML also gets props for its innovative menu. By innovative, I mean 750 ML serves old classics that are not so de rigor in modern America: bone marrow, sweet breads, etc. Their Sweetbreads are, I am told, quite tasty, if you like sweetbreads. Sweetbreads, in case you don't know, aren't exactly breads that are sweet. They are the pancreas &/or thymus of an animal like a calf or lamb.


My party was trying to guess the origin of the name, and the consensus was that it must just be a humourous euphemism, a term as far from the actual food as possible. Plausible, but as it turns out, wrong. According to this etymology site, they are actually so called because 1) the thymus & pancreas are actually quite sweet and rich, and 2) 'bread' is from the Old English for flesh, as opposed to the savory muscle normally eaten.

In any case, I didn't take advantage of the opportunity, but I appreciate that it was there. I was too busy enjoying my insanely rich Duck with Almond & Garlic Sauce. I thought the proper little deck-of-playing-cards portion would leave me hungry, but I was wrong. Each little crispy-skin & fat topped meaty bite topped was compact with quite a punch and I was full barely half way through.

The almond-garlic sauce on which it rested was, as is so necessary with duck, a light, clean counterpoint. (To recreate see the recipe below.) In the waiter's words: "If there was no such thing as cholesterol we'd serve it as a soup." It really wasn't that rich . . . bring on the soup!


On the dessert end of things, the Panna Cotta, ordered with the best of intentions, was more or less ignored by our table:


More popular was the inventive Apricot Consomme'. Soup for dessert sounds weird and (maybe) wonderful, but at the end of the day, it is just the more elegant cousin of good old canned fruit in syrup.


750 ML made a pretty smashing rendition of what you already know is one of my all time favs: Chocolate Melting Cake with Salty Caramel. We devoured two orders of this with nary a crumb left over. I'm tell you folks, give the salty caramel a go; you'll thank me.


Do it yourself: Almond Garlic Sauce:

Blend in electric blender or food processor for about 10 seconds:
1-1/4 cups (125 g/4 oz) ground almonds
1/2 cup (30 g/1 oz) fresh breadcrumbs
6 cloves garlic, chopped
Salt and freshly ground white pepper, to taste

Whisk juice of 1 lemon and 3.5 fl oz (a little more than 100 mL) extra virgin olive oil in a bowl and, with the motor running, slowly add to the almond mixture until incorporated.

Add the remaining 3.5 fl oz oil, still with the motor running. The sauce should be fairly thick, even more so than hummus.

Adjust the seasoning with approx. 1 tbsp red wine vinegar or to taste.

Enjoy with grilled chicken, fresh cut vegetables, on sandwiches, etc.

Firefly Bistro

Bistro under the big tent

(NB: There's a great recipe at the end of this so if you don't have the inclination to read about Firefly Bistro, at least go learn about toasted walnut madras curry dipping sauce, accompanying the oregano honeyed butternut doughnuts, pictured below. Killer combo.)

Taste & See: Firefly Bistro is a cute little restaurant in South Pas, a city in its own right, (as one would guess) just south of Pasadena, California. The chefs are the daughter and cowboy hat wearing son-in-law of the owner, who welcomed me in a hearty drawl as I entered. I'd expect nothing less than a family affair from such a neighborhood with such an "all American" feel. (In fact, the neighborhood, with its lack of palm trees and Spanish architecture, is often used as a filming location for Hollywood "middle America.")

And Firefly Bistro is in a tent.

Yes, the restaurant is in a tent. Genius, no? SoCal doesn't exactly have weather issues, and while it probably wouldn't stand up to an earthquake, a tent would be much easier to raise from the rubble than anything with real walls. And it adds unbeatable atmosphere.


Live jazz music on Wednesday nights in the summer, courtesy Jennifer Robin:


Lanterns swinging from the ceiling add ambiance:


But charming as the atmosphere is, the real find is the food (and drink). Owner Carl Weintraub calls it "Modern American Bistro." Bistro, as you may know, comes from the French bistro/bistrot for tavern/tavern owner, and refers to an informal restaurant serving wine. (Do my dinner parties count?) So it is only right the restaurant not only has lovely mixed drinks, particularly "Soju-tinis;" two kinds of sangria (red, pictured below) and a couple great specialty beers, but a great list of wines available by the glass. (A must for a single gal.)

The first time I was there, the restaurant had a lovely Spanish white special by the glass (a recent obsession), an albariño from Rias Baixas. Albariños are "perfumed, elegant wines . . . ", crisp and fresh with a full flavor, fruity notes but not too sweet. They're great with fish & seafood, but can also stand up to white meats. Apropos for an elegant lady on a cool summer night.


Rias Baixas is the region where the sturdy grapes are primarily grown. (The better known Portuguese Vinho Verde ("cheap and good"), long available at Trader Joes & other fine establishments, are made from the Portuguese varietal of the same grape.)

Most importantly, the importer was none other than Jorge Ordoñez (George Ordinary, as a mnemonic), the fabulous wine importer and "pioneer of an awakened Spain." Forget the year or the maker, if he's imported the bottle, I have been tipped, you will assuredly drink well.

Most food I've enjoyed at Firefly has all been stunning, lick the last bit of sauce off the place stunning. The two appetizers below have been my favorites thus far.

Cardamom Grilled Shrimp with warm bread and dried honeyed figs ($9.50):


The shrimp had the perfect texture and went well with the spicy, buttery sauce the restaurant called sirsie, seen in the background. Firefly says sirsie is an Ethiopian spicy dipping sauce but I can't seem to find anything on it. Perhaps they made it up and figured yuppies would be more likely to buy something "Ethiopian"?

Also delightful, Spicy Butternut Squash Doughnuts with oregano honey and toasted walnut-madras curry dip ($8.25):


These recall the butternut tapas from Zaytinya I wrote about previously, but the accompanying sauce swings Firefly's version way out of the ballpark. Taste the sauce separately and it is so-so, a bit heavy on the spice. Try a bit of just the oregano honey and it is a little sweet. But dip a chunk of squishy butternut doughnut with its crispy shell laced with honey into the flavorful sauce and WOW. The combination is incredible, simply incredible, a perfect illustration of flavors that are just better together. See the recipe, straight from the chef, below.

Some other dishes were not so great, however. They seemed to overstretch themselves, try too many quirky parings, spin off a classic in too many directions. But like classy stars who end up fashion's worst-dressed lists, it is only because they're willing to be creative and push the boundaries. When it succeeds, this is a beautiful thing, so we're willing to forgive the failures. We just won't order them again.

Case in point, Calamari Relleno stuffed with chorizo, olives, and currants with caramelized sweet corn, black bean sauce and queso fresco ($9.50):


Squishy calamari as the basis for a relleno-style dish was more creepy than delightfully inventive.

Also not a fan of the (ill-coloured) Pecan Coated Catfish over sweet potato-andouilli sausage hash, with Firefly collard greens and mustard pan sauce ($17.50):


Nice idea but the flavors kind of fell flat.

Do it yourself: The toasted walnut-madras curry sauce with the honeyed doughnuts was more than enough to make a girl forget all her woes, squishy squid based or otherwise. Make some up for yourself, thanks to the waitress who thoughtfully handed the chef's secret.

Toast walnuts.
Fry chopped onion, garlic, ginger and curry powder on a stovetop.
Combine walnuts with onion mix and sour cream in a food processor or blender.
Serve with a contrasting honey sauce for maximum pleasure.

Found: One Hep, Hungry Cat

Regular readers may notice the usual headline is missing today. I deliberately avoided including it here, mainly because the temptation to make bad cat puns (e.g., cat's meow) was irresistible. Instead, let me tell you a sob story.

The one and only classified ad I ever posted ran, "Wanted: One Hep Cat." I was looking for someone with whom I could swing the night away. Oh, I got replies, but sadly, none up to my hep hep standards. Maybe the kind of people who respond to blind classifieds looking for a dancing partner are not the best 'hep' crowd. (Of course, this reflects nothing at all on me . . . ).

Fast forward a few years, and just when I'm no longer looking for a hep cat, the oh so very hep Hungry Cat found me. Who says you can't have your cake and eat it too?

The Hungry Cat logo, from thehungrycat.com

Taste & See: What this entry will not do is review The Hungry Cat. Many, many people have done that, 131 on Yelp alone, and that's just the tip o' the iceberg. What it will do is show you some lovely photos and tell you more stories--about a liquor that has generated international conflict and Casanova's preferred method for eating oysters. The stories behind the food--that's why I'm here. Oh, and of course, for the food itself.

We start with the lovely cocktails to which I introduced you the other day. In addition the cucumber-mango Echo Park, people tried a raspberry-infused-rum lemonade (back) and blood orange seasonal sangria (front). Hungry Cat does cocktails really, really well.

I forgot to mention the Echo Park used monopolowa vodka, which is, btw, a centuries old Austrian potato vodka. Duh.

Image from Monopolowa.at

For appetizers, raw oysters ($15 for 1/2 dozen)

Oysters are, of course, "the ultimate aphrodisiac." (Ours were au naturel.) Perhaps the reputation derives from the high amounts of phosphorus and iodine, believed to be conducive to stamina, and amino acids which stimulate certain hormones? Or it could just be . . . Anyway, I hear Casanova ate 50 raw oysters every morning with his mistress in a bathtub designed for two, with a particular method of serving them:

‘I placed the shell on the edge of her lips and after a good deal of laughing, she sucked in the oyster, which she held between her lips. I instantly recovered it by placing my lips on hers.’

See The Old Foodie for more where that came from. As for us, we just had one a piece, at the table, so there was no funny business.

Swordfish Ceviche with pisco, citrus, cumin, cilantro and ribbons of yucca chips ($14). There are also bits of orange & grapefruit, red onion, and (rather spicy) red peppers.


Pisco is a liquor worthy of international legal spats, literally. Pisco the word comes from pisqu, Quechua for "little bird," and pisco the liquor is a brandy, distilled from grapes in Peru and Chile. Chile, Pero and Bolivia not only consume it more than any other spirit (most iconically, the pisco sour), they've actually fought over the right to produce and promote pisco. People can be very territorial about their iconic regional staples . . . (Exhibit A, Exhibit B,Exhibit C)

Tempura fried squash blossoms stuffed with shrimp and pine nuts ($12)


Squash blossoms are quite the perishable treat, and equal opportunity vegetables: you can cook with either the female or the male. But only the girls make baby squashes.

Do It Yourself: Christina promises to have your guests moaning with pleasure, if you're into that kind of thing. They're delightful raw, or cooked as above, but beware, my squash-gardening, farmers-market-visiting friends. Lest you think you can tear a squash blossoms from its moorings and neglect it until you find the time to make that squash-blossom frittata you always knew you had in you, you should know the poor dears are rather delicate: they have about the same shelf life as a mayfly. Not the best visual image, but at least you'll remember to take care.

To get the most from your blossoms: rinse them, let them air dry, wrap them in paper towels and "nest" them in a sealed plastic storage container in a fridge set at precisely 34 degrees. Or just go to The Hungry Cat.

Diver scallops with spicy tasso, corn, roasted squash and romesco ($26)


A special, sea bass with pine nuts, eggplant, onion, & stone fruit (apricot & prunes? alas my memory fails me and the photo looks like currants) all sauteed together to create the most lovely, almost honeyed sauce and equally flavorful oil. The fish had a nice crispy crust on the outside, reminiscent of another gorgeous meal.


I have a lovely stone fruit recipe of my own I've been meaning to share; one of these days I'll put it up; you can make it and console yourself for not getting to eat the sea bass at The Hungry Cat.

And if I'm really good, I'll work out a do-it-yourself substitute for this most marvelous of desserts: glorious, glorious chocolate bread and butter pudding with crisp sugar crust, gooey bread pudding, and chocolate pot at the bottom ($8)



With food like this, who needs a hep cat?

Summer Love

Nothing says summer
like strawberries and tomatoes.

Kids may still be in school, and the sky may yet be teasing us with overcast days and highs of 70s, but when you find yourself using adjectives like plump and bursting, and dreaming of red juices drizzling down your chin, you know summer's finally here.

The intense bright red of both fruits is the perfect foil for other summertime delights, from vibrant fresh pesto and salad greens to creamy cheeses.



And, as it turns out, both add just the right dot of flavor to liven up an inadvertently large batch of plain polenta I would up with recently. With a little creativity, however, the entire pan of bland, rubbery polenta was transformed into a crispy base ideal for highlighting the stand-out flavors piled on top.

Do It Yourself:

Polenta: You can make polenta, a form of corn meal, fairly easily from scratch by following the directions on the box, or these simple instructions. This is a case of do as I say, not as I do: I added only olive oil and a bit too much water; next time I'll sprinkle some salt in the polenta to give it a bit more flavor and use a little less water than called for to keep it from being so dense.

Alternately, you can buy it pre-made, ready to slice into rounds for toasting up as you need them.

For each of the recipes below, I grilled my polenta in a saucepan for 2-3 minutes on each side as I prepared the remaining ingredients. I tried the oven, but didn't get the crispy crust for which I was aiming. I also tried to grill it dry on a hot pan, but ended up filling my apartment with smoke for several hours. The best method ended up being using a moderate amount of oil, either olive oil or leftover fat from cooking meat in the same pan, and pressing down a bit on each side with a flat metal flipper.

Polenta keeps in the fridge for about a week. In addition to the recipes below, try:

Grilled Polenta with Blood Orange & Basil Relish
Fried Polenta with Fresh Tomato Sauce
Quick & Easy Polenta

Faux Strawberry Shortcake:

- Strawberries, approx 3 per person
- Chevre (goat cheese); I used a honey chevre
- Balsamic vinegar (or Rosemary Balsamic Reduction, see below)
- Polenta, cut into triangles

1. While polenta is frying, slice a few strawberries.
2. Remove polenta from pan and place on plates.
3. Spread chevre over polenta and add strawberries.
4. Drizzle with balsamic.


Rosemary Balsamic Reduction: For a more intense sweet flavor with less of a jarring sour note, use this instead any time you'd use plain balsamic vinegar.

1. Pour balsamic (approx 3 times the amount of sauce you hope to make) into a sauce pan on low heat.
2. Add several rosemary wands and approx 2 tbsp sugar per 1/2 cup balsamic.
3. Stir occasionally as vinegar evaporates into a sticky, sweet syrup.
4. Promptly remove from heat when it becomes about the consistency of maple syrup or you'll end up with a batch of sweet tar.
5. Store in fridge and use as needed for a lovely jolt of flavor on almost anything.

Polenta Open Faced Sandwich
- Salami or sausage rounds; I used chorizo
- Cheese; I used brie
- Cherry or grape tomatoes
- Pesto
- Polenta squares

1. As polenta is toasting in pan, add several slices of salami and a handful of tomatoes. The heat brings out a rich warmth to the meat and provides some additional flavor to the polenta as it cooks in the oil. The tomatoes stay intact, but pop in beautiful bursts in your mouth.


2. After turning polenta over once, spread pesto over toasted side and top with slices of cheese.
3. Cover and continue to cook in pan while bottom side toasts.
4. Place polenta on plate and top with salami rounds and tomatoes.


Serve with a sweet white wine (I am partial to Gewürztraminer) and a simple salad of mache or spinach leaves topped with, what else, sliced strawberries, slivered almonds, honey chevre or pecorino, and perhaps another little drizzle of balsamic (though mache has a nice peppery flavor that needs no dressing).

Finish with Faux Strawberry Shortcake for dessert, and perhaps a digestivo of a single sweet, perfect strawberry.

Veal Rolls Stuffed with Spinach & Gruyere- Sort of

A Faux Gourmet twist on a Gourmet recipe.

Taste & See: You can find the original recipe from Gourmet Magazine so I won't bother to reprint it. But lest you think the fancy title implies more effort or skill than you can muster up, the technique is actually really simple and can be modified to use up whatever you have on hand.

What you need:

- Meat cutlets, sliced thin
- Grated cheese
- Spinach leaves
- (Dry) white wine
- Butter
- Salt, pepper, herbs of choice
- Skewer stick, baking pan, saute pan

The Basic Technique:

- Lay thin cuts of meat flat in a baking pan.
- Sprinkle with salt and pepper.
- Rub with melted butter.
- Pile shredded cheese on top.
- Stack spinach leaves over the cheese.
- Roll up and pin with skewer stick.
- Saute for two minutes on each side in butter.
- Return to baking pan and bake approx. 5 min. more at 425 F.
- Meanwhile, add approx 1/2 cup wine + 1 tbsp butter to sauce pan, scraping up brown bits.
- Sprinkle in herb of choice and reduce to approx. 1/2 amount of liquid.

Voila!

Tips:

- Using a skewer stick keeps the meat rolls together while cooking and makes for easy transfer without needing separate utensils.


- Pre-washed spinach leaves save time.
- Anytime you cook meat on the stove top, make a flavorful sauce by scraping up the crusty bits left from the meat in the saute pan with wine and a little extra butter.



Variations:

The original recipe calls for veal, gruyere, spinach leaves, parsley, a dry white wine and anchovy paste. I didn't have anchovy paste. Instead, I spread some leftover almond - garlic - lemon - bread crumb sauce mixed with the melted butter over the meat before adding cheese and spinach. I didn't have a dry white wine so I used a slightly sweet Viognier, which worked just fine.



My second variation was a faux gourmet spin on a cheeseburger. I used choice beef tip sirloin steak, long flat pieces perfect for rolling up.




I mixed some mustard and garlic with the butter for spreading over the meat, and used a vodka cheddar instead of gruyere. The only white wine I had on hand was a Gewurtzraminer, a spunky, spicy wine, and thyme for the brown sauce. I was afraid it would be too sweet, but it turned out quite nice, a bit more complex than a typical white wine brown sauce.

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.