Gastronomie

How I Fell in Love With Jamaica

There are a few things you have to do when you go to Jamaica. One of these things is not something discussed in, ahem, present company (present company being the WHOLE WIDE WORLD). But I can tell you that it's most definitely not OK to visit Jamaica without (a) eating jerk chicken and (b) drinking Red Stripe.

C and I were lucky to find an absolutely wonderful and beautiful angel in Marva Shaw. Marva customised a tour of Ocho Rios for us, steering us away from the throngs of uninspired tourists (ie, those who book ALL their shore excursions through the cruise lines) and taking us to a roadside shack for pottery, a total dive for lunch, and a bizarre little chaat-like joint for beef patties.

At the risk of sounding like a shill, Marva is the best freaking tour guide we've ever had. We loved her so much we wanted to book a week-long vacation in Jamaica on the spot; she's a great lady with an huge heart, and Jamaican down to her very soul.

Our day started early, with a tour of Dunn's River Falls. While they are most definitely a tourist trap, Marva got us there long befor the buses showed up. The Falls are really lovely, though I have to say that they pale in comparison to the waterfalls we visited on the Big Island in Hawaii. That said, walking the mouth of the river where it feeds into the vast ocean was breathtaking.

At this point, C needed sustenance, so we made a quick pit-stop at Juici Patties for a couple of flaky, buttery packets filled with curried ground beef, and a Coco Bread. Cost for three patties and two breads? Two bucks. I felt like I was robbing these people.

Next up was our tour of Prospect Plantation, one of the oldest working plantations in Ocho Rios.

How to Eat Well on a Cruise

Seems like an oxymoron, doesn't it? People always tell you that you don't cruise for the "quality" of the food, but the "quantity". And truth be told, food was our greatest concern when we booked our vacation -- would we find ourselves eating room service BLTs every night instead of abysmal beef Wellington and fake-ice-cream baked Alaska?

While Princess is by no means considered a "luxury" cruise line, it generally seems to garner "premium" ratings by reviewers. So, this post can't really be taken as anything more than our experience on the Caribbean Princess, one of the largest and newest ships in a "premium" fleet.

What We Loved:

Found: The Perfect Hoagie Sandwich

That up there is a Monster from LaSpada's in Fort Lauderdale. It's 12 inches of joyously delicious bread loaded with turkey, ham, roast beef, provolone, sweet peppers, hot peppers, onions, lettuce, tomato, pickles, oil & vinegar. C and I destroyed it on our first day in Florida.

LaSpada's opened their first location in 1973, and it's been a family-run operation ever since. Today, they have three stores in the Fort Lauderdale area, and the lines at each one are perpetually out-the-door. The counter crew function like a well-oiled machine: meats are sliced paper-thin only once you've ordered, then they are tossed (literally) five feet to the sandwich "assembler". The veggies are piled high, then with perfect timing, one final layer of meat comes flying across.

Which leads me to the neatest thing about LaSpada's subs: their unique "tuck" method -- the very last layer of the sandwich is a thin layer of meat, which is then carefully tucked underneath all the rest of the fillings, to keep the sandwich mostly intact as you're eating it. This is an enormous improvement over typical hoagie-style sandwiches, where all the small stuff is on the top, and ends up falling off well before you make it to the end of the sandwich.

After hearing him talk about this place for four years (and a near-nuclear meltdown the last time we were in Florida when his mom really wanted "breakfast" instead of a sandwich), I finally get it. LaSpada's is as barebones as it gets, but their bread and meats, as well as their technique, score them all the points they need to win my personal "Favorite Sandwich" award.

LaSpada's Original Hoagies
4346 Seagrape Drive
Lauderdale-by-the-sea, FL 33308
954.776.7893

Tags: Florida, Fort Lauderdale, Restaurant Reviews, Hoagies, Sandwiches, Food & Drink

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Gone Fishin'

Yup, we're off tonight for the first real vacation we've had since our honeymoon over three years ago.

No emails, no voicemails... so freaking excited. There are a couple of posts on my scheduler, so if you see 'em pop up in your RSS feed, don't go thinkin' I'm blogging from the Caribbean!

Sam & Fred are taking the pups, so drop her a line of encouragement, won't you?

Tags: Caribbean, Cruise, French Bulldog, Vacation, San Francisco

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Stephen Starr's Philadelphia, Part 2 - The Striped Bass

So, on my second night in Philadelphia, I got the chance to squeeze in a dinner at Striped Bass, one of the new Starr restaurants, and perhaps one of the more upscale.

The space is rather gorgeous, in an old-school-Wall-Street-bank sort of way -- cavernous ceilings, muted colors, staff in conservative darks. The only things giving it away as a place that's actually not TOO serious are the open kitchen and enormous sculpture of a striped bass that's suspended over it.

Now, before I can speak to the food, I really need to address service here. Because it really kind of sucked. R, A and I all wanted to take our time ordering, so just got started with raw bar items and a chilled soup. We told our waiter we'd "start with these" -- he took that to mean that we were only have appetizers, and he gave us a look that made me want to get up off my chair and smack him. Fortunately, I do have a LITTLE more decorum than that, and decided to let it roll off my back.

Unfortunately, that was only the start of the problem. Because our waiter didn't seem interested in our table, one of our courses was delivered incorrectly, and we actually had to swap plates ourselves. One of my guests is pregnant, so mentioned that she'd be drinking water all evening. Our waiter kept bringing fresh bottles of Fiji, causing us to think, "oh, how nice, a restaurant that doesn't nickle-and-dime on water". Apparently not -- there was a $21 charge on the bill for 3 bottles.

Stephen Starr's Philadelphia - Part One (Pod)

Ask any Philadelphia foodie what she thinks of Stephen Starr, and you're likely to get an earful. Lots of people love what he's brought to their city, but there's a whole other segment that thinks his restaurants are all totally formulaic, and that this "Starrification" has killed the inventiveness and individuality in the city's fine-dining scene.

I went to two Starr restaurants while I was in Philly last week, and while I can see that the thumping bass, gorgeous and uber-hip servers, and excruciatingly precious interior design features might get boring after a while, I had two really lovely meals and think that Mr. Starr must be doing something right.

In the interest of integrity, I am going to mention here that one of C's best friends is the sous chef at Pod, arguably the youngest and funkiest of the Starr restaurants. So it might go without saying that the meal we had there was out of this world. I'm not going to write about it in depth, since we never even had a chance to order -- we just put ourselves in R's capable hands, and were not even momentarily disappointed. The highlights, however, might include:

• Toro and chu-toro that literally melted away as soon as they touched your tongue
• Szechuan lamb chops with a depth of flavor that never once hid the beautiful lamb flavor
• Crab spring rolls, incredibly decadent
• A chocolate toffee bread pudding that not only wasn't too sweet, but carried through the bitterness of the dark chocolate beautifully
• Passion fruit creme brulee, so pure and tart-sweet that I wished my part-time lover could have been there to taste it

Pod doesn't have what I would call "ambiance". Instead, it's a place that you'd go if you wanted to feel unbearably hip, and beautiful, and sexy. The space is DEFINITELY on the very loud side, but conversation isn't out of the question.

In the next couple of days, I'm going to write about my second Starr experience, this time at Striped Bass. This was a wholly different meal, from the menu to the environment to the service. Let's just say that Mr. Starr doesn't seem to have a problem creating very different restaurants for very different patrons.

Tags: Philadelphia, Stephen Starr, Pod, San Francisco, Restaurant Review, Food & Drink

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The Food City No One Talks About: Philadelpia

When you think about food in Philly, does it bring to mind thoughts of coffee-crusted scallops and toasted almond foam? How about some of the most mind-blowingly and buttery toro you've ever tasted? And gelato that might give Italian gelatterias a run for their money?

Well, having spent the better part of a week here now (where I coincidentally ran into one of the coolest girls I've met recently), I am suddenly having a whole lot more respect for this city's culinary prowess.

I have plenty of places to write about, so bear with me for a few days. But first, let me tell you about the ubiquitous Philly Cheesesteak Sandwich. Having grown up in New York, there was definitely a plethora of this oozy and delicious lunch around. But after I moved to California, I decided to simply go without instead of partaking of the mockery that is available there.

From time to time, the urge would overwhelm me and I'd go running off to WizWhit (may he rest in peace) at the corner of Norfolk between 11th & 12th in SoMa. Once the Wiz was gone, though... that was it.

So it was with a nearly giddy demeanor that I skipped off to Reading Terminal Market, just around the corner from my hotel, to ponder whether I'd be going for an Italian hoagie at Salumeria, a roasted pork sandwich at DiNic's or a cheesesteak at Rick's. When I walked up to Rick's and realized that they are the 3rd generation of Pat's Philly Steaks, the deal was sealed.

"One steak, please, provolone, sweet peppers, no onions"

Five minutes later, I had a big, juicy, slick, tender, sweet-and-salty sandwich. I promptly walked back to my room so as to keep from making a total ass of myself eating this sandwich that I just described like sex. It was likely to be loud and wholly inappropriate a thing to do in public.

By the way, for those of you wondering what Reading is like... Let me put it to you in Bay Area terms: take the archictural beauty and integrity of the ferry building, and fill with vendors you'd find in Emeryville Public Market and the Housefiles Market in Oakland. Drop it next to City Hall. And there you have the Reading Terminal.

Tags: Philadelphia, Reading Terminal, Cheesesteak, Rick's Steaks, San Francisco

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Sometimes, you just can't be bothered

I love traveling for work, I really do. Even when it takes me away from the three most favorite creatures in my life, I'm invigorated by it and I get to spend time with lots of interesting people.  But sometimes, I land in my hotel room, totally wiped out and with several hours of work ahead of me.

Such was the case tonight, as I checked in to the MagMile Marriott in Chicago. So although there were several restaurants stumbling distance, and I could easily have convinced myself to head to Blackbird or Avec or Avenues (reviews for the latter two are forthcoming), I just knew it wasn't a good idea.

So, I threw caution to the wind and ordered from the restaurant downstairs, Viand.  The thought of going downstairs to the achingly hip, excruciatingly loud room was anathema, and the room service menu was exactly the same as the restaurant's.

Three Cheese Flatbread ($8) was delicious and cheesy, sweet and savory all at one. The crust was a bit thicker than I would have liked, but had a nice texture, so that was forgivable. It was an enormously large portion for the price.

I also ordered Smoked Paprika Seared Tuna (Fried green tomatoes, sofrito, orange glaze & plantains) $24. Yea, I know. Why order tuna in Chicago, right? Call it a craving. This was a mish-mash of a dish, but it was, hands down, one of the best pieces of tuna I've had in a very long time. Rubbed with smoked paprika, this had a depth of flavor and uniqueness that really surprised me. Nearly everything else on the plate was negligible, and was left behind when room service came to pick up my tray, but that tuna. Oy, was that good.

The one really great thing about ordering room service is that I rarely order dessert, which means that I rarely overeat. I hopped downstairs for a Makers, neat, and finished up my work.

Viand American Bistro
155 E. Ontario
Chicago, IL
312.255.8505

Alinea - the Final Countdown... 5 Kinds of Dessert

So, it's come to this. Dessert. Five desserts, in fact. And I have to do all of them at once, lest I lose myself as I replay them for five days straight.

Shall we begin?

Applewood (muscovado, fenugreek)

That looks like a marshmallow, doesn't it? Well, of course it ISN'T.

It's actually a dense little cylinder of applewood ice cream, rolled in muscovado sugar with a bit of caramelized fenugreek. Another triumph of texture, temperature and flavor.

Bacon. Candy

Yup, you read that right. Bacon candy. Or, as close as you're likely to get to it, anyway.

Take a dehydrated slice of bacon and dip it in butterscoth. Then, roll it in paper-thin ribbons of dried apple and fresh thyme. Suspend the bacon from a contraption at once clinical and elegant.

To borrow inspiration from Joy for a moment, I would have stabbed anyone at the table with my fork if I had one, and if I thought it would garner me another slice of bacon candy.

 

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