...an endless banquet

Top Ten #32

2009-11-21T00:43:00.002-05:00

1. Bright Star, dir. Jane Campion

2. Hans Fallada, Every Man Dies Alone

3. red beans + rice

4. red flannel hash

fig. a: On Dangerous Ground

5. On Dangerous Ground, dir. Nicholas Ray

fig. b: Border Incident

6. Border Incident, dir. Anthony Mann

7. Dirk Bogarde, A Particular Friendship

8. King of Hearts Drink Book (1955) + Esquire Party Book (1965)

9. The Best of Everything, dir. Jean Negulesco

fig. c: Thanksgiving by Gourmet

10. Gourmet's final issue, November 2009

aj

Christmas in September

2009-11-06T09:00:00.002-05:00

fig. a: the set-up (detail)

What can I say? The girl's on a tear!

First there was her 2-night gig at Les Touilleurs, and now this:

Michelle's in the new issue of Elle Québec, along with six other talented local chefs. The concept goes like: 1) you bring together a group of chefs in a top Montreal restaurant (say, La salle à manger), 2) you tell them to come prepared to make a special Christmas dish, preferably one that's dear to them, 3) you get them to cook their respective dishes, 4) and you finish off the occasion by having a spectacular Christmas meal with plenty of vino and other assorted spirits.

Sounds great, right?

Well, in September, when the shoot actually took place, it sounded kind of crazy. For one thing, it was hot. For another, Christmas seemed a long ways away. But everyone showed up, they came armed with recipes and mad skills, they made some pretty stellar dishes, the wine started to flow, and the event turned into quite the party. Michelle even got dressed up old-school Czech-style ("«la reine de Noël»!") to go along with her traditional Czech dessert.

fig. b: if you're going to Christmas in September...*

If you want to read the entire article, you'll have to go to your local newsstand. The issue is out now.

If you want to check out Michelle's recipe for "Les biscuits au chocolat, aux noix et au rhum" (Czech rum, walnut, and chocolate cookies), you can find it here on ellequebec.com. You can also find the highly international, highly tantalizing menu and all six of the other recipes there, including:

• Les pastelles au merlan (Guinea-Bissau) de Julio Mendy, chef du Résident

• La morue à la vizcaina (Mexico) d’Alonso Ortiz, chef du Pintxo

• Les cigares au chou (Romania) d’Emilian Manole, chef du Picapica

• La longe d’agneau (France) de Stéphane Modat,chef de l'Utopie

• Le jeune canard sur os et les jambonneaux à l'érable (Quebec) de Samuel Pinard, chef de La salle à manger

and, Michelle's pick of the night,

• Le salmis de pieuvre au girofle (Mauritius) de Stelio Perombelon, chef des Cons servent et du Pullman

ak

* ...be sure to wear flowers in your hair.

Hash Fiend 1, or Frying the Flannel

2009-11-04T18:36:00.010-05:00

fig. a: red flannel

Lately, I’ve been cooking up a fair bit of hash. No need to worry, though. This hasn’t led to me rereading Steppenwolf, or resurrecting my old Jim “An American Poet” Morrison poster, or illuminating my room with black lights and lava lamps, and it’s not part of some kind of mid-life crisis. At least, I don’t think it is.

The hash I’m talking about is good old-fashioned hash-house hash, the kind of hash that consists of the combination of diced meat or fish, onion, and some root vegetables--usually potatoes, plus carrots, beets, or turnips. The kind of hash that was a North American staple for generations. The kind of hash that was much more than just a breakfast dish and that was largely displaced by fast food (especially the hamburger) and changing tastes in the early- to mid-twentieth century.

Now, as you'll see in subsequent posts, I've been making a whole host of hashes over the last couple months, but today I want to begin this discussion by looking at a colorful little gem called Red Flannel Hash.

I know, I know: sounds like the name of a grunge band circa 1992. Can't you just picture the poster?

fig. b: Live! At the Hi-Hat!

fig. c: Live! At the Hi-Hat! (detail)

[As it turns out, there is a band that goes by the name of Red Flannel Hash, but my gut feeling tells me they've never shared a bill with either Mudhoney or Tad, let alone fIREHOSE. Check 'em out.]

Anyway, as I was saying, this concoction has more to do with the Northeast than with the Northwest. All indications point to the fact that the dish originated in New England--"authentic" versions of the dish are often described as Yankee Red Flannel Hash, and most of the tall tales that surround the dish's origins are set in lumber camps in Maine, or New Hampshire, or Vermont.

Look Red Flannel Hash up and you'll also find that it's one of those dishes that provokes controversy. We're not talking barbecue-size controversy, or pizza-size controversy, but controversy nonetheless. Everyone agrees that beets should be front and center, the main question is whether or not corned beef should also be a part of the ensemble. And what you find is that some of the most vocal experts on the matter, people who take the culinary foodways of the Northeast very seriously indeed, insist that red flannel should be corned beef-free. Not meat-free, mind you, but corned beef-free. According to this school, the combination of beets, potatoes, onions, and corned beef adds up to something altogether different: a Calico Hash. In a true Red Flannel Hash, the beets are the stars, and they have no fear of being upstaged. This doesn't mean that Red Flannel Hash is meatless. As with most other hashes, tradition says that bacon fat plays an important supporting role, and it's not uncommon to find some actual bacon in the cast, as well.* [Have an opinion on these matters? By all means, chime in.]

Our own version is one we’ve extrapolated from a few different sources. If you’re already a Red Flannel Hash fiend, you might take exception to this or that element, but this AEB version has all the essential elements--the onions, the beets, and the potatoes--and it makes for one fine hash. It's become one of our very favorite breakfasts here at AEB HQ, especially at this time of year, when beets of all types (red, golden, chioggia) are plentiful.

fig. c: beets, candy-striped and otherwise

I’ve read recipes for Red Flannel Hash that don’t involve boiling your vegetables--some insist on steaming the vegetables instead--but boiled vegetables are an important part of most true hashes, and we’ve been pretty happy (ecstatic, actually) with the results here.

If you’re a vegetarian, you could easily omit the bacon and replace the bacon fat with a tablespoon of oil, and you’d wind up with a perfectly satisfying Red Flannel Hash, but there is something to be said about the marriage of those beets and that smoky bacon flavor, and it pays to hunt down top quality beets and bacon to match. If you’re a vegan, you could omit both the bacon and the whipping cream, and you’d still be left with a perfectly acceptable (and delicious!) hash--the cream is optional, but (highly) recommended. If you’re a raw foodist, though, I’m sorry, this isn’t the dish for you. It’s just not a Red Flannel Hash if the flannel hasn’t been fried.

AEB Red Flannel Hash

2-3 strips of smoky bacon
5 small beets (mixed varieties, if available), peeled and diced
2 medium potatoes, peeled and diced
1 small carrot, washed and diced
1 small parsnip, washed and diced
salt and black pepper to taste
1 small onion, peeled and diced
1 clove garlic, minced
1-2 tbsp parsley, minced
1/4 cup whipping cream (optional, but recommended)
sour cream (optional)

Add the diced beets, potatoes, carrots, and parsnip to a small pot, and add just enough water to cover the vegetables. Salt the water to taste and bring the water to a boil. Turn down the heat and simmer the vegetables for about 10-12 minutes, or until just tender. Drain the vegetables, making sure to reserve the liquid. [This broth is essentially a clear borscht. Adjust the seasoning, and you have yourself a great light meal.]

Meanwhile, fry the bacon in a frying pan or a cast-iron skillet until crispy. Remove the bacon with a slotted spoon or slotted spatula, reserving the bacon fat. Mince the bacon and set aside.

Fry the onion in the bacon fat over medium heat until the onions have softened and have turned translucent, about 5-10 minutes. Add the vegetables and sauté for a few minutes. Add the garlic, the parsley, and the reserved bacon and sauté for another minute. Add the cream, adjust the seasoning, and turn up the heat. Many hash fiends will tell you that you should turn the heat up to high and fry the hell out of it, so that the hash forms a blackened crust. This hash fiend will tell you that I’ve tried making my hash a number of ways, and that I prefer my Red Flannel Hash with the golden brown crust that one gets when one cooks the hash over medium to medium-high heat for a few minutes per side.

Serve a generous heap of the red flannel hash on each plate, with a poached egg or two perched on top, and maybe even a dollop of real sour cream.

Serves 2-4, depending on appetite/enthusiasm.

[major inspiration provided by John Thorne's Serious Pig]

aj

*Okay, enough with the extended metaphor.

Another First

2009-10-31T08:40:00.003-04:00

fig. a: Michelle's panforte

We've mentioned cooking classes here at "...an endless banquet" before, but who ever thought we'd have the occasion to mention our own?

That's exactly what happened, though: a couple of weeks ago Michelle gave her very first cooking classes. Well, not her absolute very first cooking classes. She's been known to host free "cooking classes" for small groups of our friends on topics like making and canning your very own tomato sauce. But these were her first professional cooking classes, and they took place at a very professional, very chic location: Les Touilleurs.

fig. b: Michelle's candied fruit

The agenda for the evening consisted of three things: 1) candying fruit, including oranges, lemons, and quinces; 2) using the candied fruit to make both a fruitcake and a panforte; and 3) making an autumnal preserve, the infamous l'autrichienne, with apples, raisins, and walnuts.

I know what you're saying: "Great! What's the point of telling us after the classes took place?"

We apologize for having been remiss in advertising these events, but, frankly, the two classes were fully booked months ago, and they got fully booked almost instantly--between the time Michelle made the final arrangements with our friends at Les Touilleurs, and the time she told me later that day (!). Suffice to say, Les Touilleurs' cooking class series is very, very popular.

Anyway, the classes went exceedingly well and Michelle hopes this is just the beginning, so, should there be a "next time," dear readers, we'll do our best to get the word out to you pronto.

For more about Les Touilleurs' cooking classes, give them a call: 278-0008

aj

On and Off the Road 3, or KFC*

2009-10-24T13:00:00.003-04:00

fig. a: Kaaterskill Falls

One of the prime attractions in the Catskills are the legendary Kaaterskill Falls. And when I say "legendary," I mean it. The cult of Kaaterskill Falls dates back to the early 19th century, when casual references to the Falls' breathtaking natural "amphitheater" in Washington Irving's "Rip Van Winkle" and in the work of James Fenimore Cooper turned them into a pilgrimage point for Thomas Cole and the Hudson River School. Cole and the Hudson River School not only devoted themselves to the region, they established the look of the landscape of the Catskills and did much to popularize it. “Irving had dealt with the Catskills in a mood of urbane detachment; Cooper had devoted only a few pages to them. But Cole passionately identified himself with the Catskills.”

By the late 19th century a number of hotels and a railway link had been constructed to handle the tourist traffic to the Catskills, and a great deal of this activity was clustered around the Falls. Not just any old hotels, either. Catskill Mountain House was built in the 1820s and it quickly became one of the most famous hotels of its day, hosting a virtual Who's Who of America's elite over the course of the century.

fig. b: Catskill Mountain House

The Kaaterskill Hotel was built in the early 1880s as the modern (electric light, elevators, etc.) alternative to the Catskill Mountain House, and it eventually expanded into a 1,200-room behemoth.

fig. c: Kaaterskill Hotel

And soon these impressive, ornate hotels were joined by others.

fig. d: Grand Hotel

The hotels are long gone, victims of changing tastes, neglect, and disastrous fires, but at the top of the Falls you can still see evidence of the observation deck that used to provide tourists with a stunning view of the valley,** as well as plenty of graffiti, much of it dating back to the lookout's 19th-century heyday.

fig. e: geological graffiti

And while access to the Falls, the "amphitheater,"

fig. f: the top of the "amphitheater"

fig. g: falls, "amphitheater," swimming hole

and the gorgeous swimming hole that sits within it, is not nearly as safe and established as it once was, it's just as impressive as it ever was.

What does any of this have to do with food? Well, making your way to the "amphitheatre" is hardly a long hike, but it's treacherous*** enough that you can work up a pretty nice appetite going there and back.

We didn't bring much food with us, when we visited back in August, just some cherries for a snack. But by the time we were done, we'd worked up a most unusual appetite for fried chicken. Which is a funny thing... You see, we didn't realize it at the time, but the reason that there were two major hotels in close proximity to Kaaterskill Falls was not only due to the heavy tourist traffic that was attracted to the Catskills during the 19th century, it was also due to the so-called "Fried Chicken War."

The story goes as follows: in the summer of 1880 a famous patents lawyer named George Harding was vacationing at the Catskill Mountain House, accompanied by his wife and his ailing daughter, Emily. Now, Emily was on a strict no-red-meat diet that relied on chicken for protein. One day, early in their visit, the Hardings were informed that the dish of the day was roast beef. Mr. Harding politely demanded that his daughter be brought an order of fried chicken instead, to which the waiter refused. “Other hotels might have their supper rooms and their kitchens staffed to prepare whatever a guest might want whenever he might want it. But not the Catskill Mountain House, where the old-fashioned ordinary reigned in all its anachronistic rigidity” [my emphasis]. Well, tempers flared, and eventually Charles Beach, the owner of the Catskill Mountain House, was brought in to settle the matter. Which he did. Mr. Harding must have been sure that he Beach would decide in his favor. After all, Mr. Harding had been a patron of the Catskill Mountain House since the 1840s, and, by the 1870s he was a veritable fixture at the hotel, a man who was widely regarded as the center of the summer social scene. Instead, Mr. Beach graciously informed Mr. Harding that if it was fried chicken he wanted, he should go ahead and build his own hotel. Which he did. Harding apparently received Beach's sarcastic suggestion in silence, but inside he must have been seething, for he promptly checked his family out of the Catskill Mountain House and decided to construct “a hotel that would dwarf Beach’s Mountain House by its size and eclipse it by its modernity," not to mention a hotel that, in all likelihood, would have the common sense to serve fried chicken. The very next year, Mr. Harding opened his Kaaterskill Hotel to great to-do, and the bitter hospitality battle that ensued became known as the Fried Chicken War.

The thing is, as petty and insignificant as this incident might seem to us today, it soon developed into a small-scale civil war, one which, in some ways, came to define an era:

At once, word of the Beach-Harding struggle traveled from town to town among the Catskills and to every trading center along the Hudson River... Fervent Beachites portrayed Geroge Harding as a malevolent associate of “Grab-all Cornell”**** motivated by nothing at all but a passion for crushing Beach and destroying the prosperity of Catskill. Hardingites saw Beach as a greedy and arrogant reincarnation of Rip Van Winkle who was determined to keep the modern world from penetrating the Catskills... The rivalry between Harding and Beach came to symbolize the changes taking place. The expansion of railroads, the multiplication of hotels, the change from the old simplicities to the comforts and sophistication of the final two decades of the nineteenth century--all became reduced to two men squabbling over a fried chicken.

No joke.

Our fried chicken feast was no joke either. We made plenty of good, old-fashioned Southern-style fried chicken, with cream gravy and all the trimmings, and then we took our positions and went to battle.

aj

Source: Alf Evers’ The Catskills: From Wilderness to Woodstock (1972) is both endlessly entertaining and authoritative. All quotes in the post above are attributable to Evers.

*Take your pick: Kaaterskill Falls Chicken or Kaaterskill Fried Chicken.

**If you look closely at fig. a, you can see the structure I'm talking about.

***As Paul Grondahl of the Times-Union put it, "[Kaaterskill Falls'] beauty is matched by its treachery." Earlier this year, the Falls claimed another victim. Making your way to the swimming hole is no high-wire act, but it's no cake walk either. If you're going to attempt the climb, you should be a seasoned hiker/climber, and you should definitely be wearing proper footwear.

****Famously, Harding had been the patents lawyer to Samuel Morse. Ezra Cornell, the founder of Cornell University, made his fortune in the telegraph business as an associate of Morse's (and, presumably, of Harding's).

p.s. Among the many good reasons to visit the Bronck Museum in Coxsackie, NY, is its Victorian Horse Barn, which houses impressive scale models of both the Catskill Mountain House and the Kaaterskill Hotel.

Mmmmyriade

2009-10-21T17:29:00.005-04:00

fig. a: cappuccino @ myriade

Lest one get the imp ression that Montreal is some kind of coffee world also-ran... Exhibit A: Café Myriade.

Without question, Myriade has been our café of the year--here, there, or anywhere. Montreal may not have its very own world-class coffee roasting operation, but at least we have people who know what to do with world-class beans when they see them.

Their formula? Top-notch beans, most of which come from Vancouver/Burnaby's ambitious and gifted 49th Parallel. Precision equipment, including a veritable arsenal of French presses, Nordic flasks, and super-high-tech Japanese siphons. Talented, meticulous, and ultra-attentive staff, all of whom appear to have been drilled in the art and science of proper coffee and tea brewing. And, get this: an in-house professional barista handbook author and an in-house competition barista who just placed second in the national championships. What's not to like? Hell, even their drip coffee is outstanding, because they make it to exacting standards and never allow it to sit any longer than 20 minutes before making a new batch.

The thing is, none of this would be worth a hoot to us if Café Myriade wasn't actually a pleasure to visit and its team wasn't so darned friendly. Which it is. And they are. In fact, sometimes, especially when the weather allows, and those big sliding glass doors are wide open, a seat at Myriade, with that perfectly prepared cappuccino (see above) sitting right in front of you, can be positively dreamy. As in: when I'm away from Montreal, as I am right now, Myriade is one of those places I dream about. A lot.

Café Myriade, 1432 Mackay, 939-1717

aj

p.s. full disclosure: thanks to our friend L C, we got to meet the above-mentioned competition barista/co-owner, Anthony Benda, a few months ago, and when Anthony found out that Michelle was a pastry chef, well, the two of them started bouncing ideas off one another. The result of those discussions was the signature drink that won the eastern regional championships and that was showcased at the national barista championships.

Now, Anthony happened to mention that he had collaborated with Michelle on his signature drink when he was interviewed by the CBC's "Home Run" a few weeks ago, and ever since people have been stopping by to request "Michelle's coffee drink." Let us clarify: the drink was absolutely, positively Anthony's, and, unfortunately, signature drinks tend to be competition-only affairs. But, that said, Michelle is thrilled that her collaboration with Anthony was such a hit (and she hopes to get a chance to taste it herself one of these days).

Technical Difficulties

2009-10-07T12:52:00.002-04:00

We are presently experiencing technical difficulties.

Please do not adjust your set.

fig. a: shot from the hip

This moody, purely accidental shot was the last photo I managed to take before our camera went on the fritz.

Too bad, too, because there's been a lot of good food prepared and consumed here at "...an endless banquet" over the last several weeks.

Regular programming will resume shortly.

--the management

Top Ten #31

2009-09-29T23:43:00.003-04:00

1. W.W. Boyce Farmers' Market, Fredericton, NB

2. A.S. Byatt, Possession

3. Mad Men, season 2

fig. a: "Mark Whitacre" + Mark Whitacre

4. The Informant!, dir. Soderbergh + This American Life #168: "The Fix is In"

fig. b: NB tartan

5. The Loomcrofters, Gagetown, NB

6. Oscar's, Warrensburg, NY

7. Hans Fallada, Every Man Dies Alone

8. New Brunswick potatoes

9. diner-style hamburgers + I Am a Fugitive From a Chain Gang, dir. LeRoy

fig. c: Captains Courageous

10. cod cakes + Captains Courageous, dir. Fleming + chow chow

aj

On and Off the Road 2

2009-09-13T11:06:00.002-04:00

fig. a: smokehouse pastoral

We'd gotten tipped off to Oscar's Adirondack Smoke House about 3 or 4 years ago by a fellow traveler here in Montreal, but we didn't follow up on the tip promptly, and within a few months, all thoughts of Oscar's famous smoked hams had wafted away like so much hickory smoke.

Thank god A & J refreshed our memories. They'd spent a few furious days eating their way back and forth across Montreal for their honeymoon (you know, the usual: Au Pied, Joe Beef, Salle à Manger, Cuisine Mas, Dic Ann's, The Main, Laloux, etc.), and on their way back to New York they made a few well-researched stops in the Adirondacks, one of which was Oscar's.

Two weeks later, on our way down to the Catskills, we pulled off the 87 at exit 23, and pulled into Warrensburg, to pay Oscar's a visit. And from the moment we set eyes on it, we knew it was going to be good.

fig. b: smokehouse gothic

I mean, "Choice MEATS," "HOME SMOKE HAMS BACON," and the name "OSCARS" printed directly on one of their smokehouse chimneys--how can you go wrong? (Especially with all that beautiful blue smoke wafting through the air...)

Now, if you're looking for 100% traditional country hams--the kind of backwoods masterpieces you can still find in Kentucky, Virginia, and Tennessee--you're not going to find them at Oscar's. They're crazy, but they're not that crazy.

What matters is the care Oscar's puts into their product, the way they sugar- and salt-cure their meats, and the way they smoke everything using that lovely, natural hardwood smoke. We loved their "petite" smoked ham (perfect for two!), their double-smoked bacon (now you're talking!), and their super-smoked cheddar cheese (yes!). And they make a mighty fine German-style red potato salad, too. We packed our cooler, and pointed our car back towards the highway.

Oscar's, 22 Raymond Lane, Warrensburg, NY, 1-800-627-3431

And if you're heading down to New York from Montreal, or up to Montreal from New York, Oscar's ain't but 5 minutes from the 87. That's a small price to pay for fine smokehouse fare.

aj

ps--TY A & J, and S, too.

On and Off the Road 1

2009-09-05T09:04:00.000-04:00

fig. a: l-r: Jerry Lee Lewis, Little Richard

We'd been wanting to go to PJ's BBQ in Saratoga Springs for years. Not because we knew anything about it--hell, we didn't even know the name of the place until we were lined up in PJ's bb-queue--but we had admired its roadside style on numerous occasions, and we just had a good feeling about the place. Problem is, every time we'd tried to go there in the past, it hadn't been "bbq season"--PJ's is only open during the warm weather months (this year's opening day was April 18). This time around we were pretty sure we'd finally get a chance to sample "Saratoga-style" barbecue--we were heading down to the Catskills again and it was the height of summer.

I'm still not sure what the distinguishing features of "Saratoga-style" barbecue, but I do know that PJ's cooks their chicken & ribs over an open pit and that they use real charcoal to do so. I also know that someone at PJ's has got a serious '50s fetish--pick-up windows are named after such rock 'n' roll legends as Little Richard and Jerry Lee Lewis, and a parade of '50s hits blares over the P.A. (luckily, the overall effect is more American Graffiti or Gibeau Orange Julep than Johnny Rockets).

fig. b: l-r: ribs, chicken

I can also tell you that while PJ's isn't about to dethrone any of the bbq masters of North Carolina, Tennessee, Missouri, or Texas anytime soon (for one thing, they offer too many damn sauces) but they have won their fair share of barbecue awards & acclaim, everything is cooked slow & low (as it should be), and visiting PJ's Saratoga-style barbecue at the height of summer, when the ponies are running, is nothing if not a scene. I mean, this joint was jumpin', and the crowds had come ready to eat. PJ's is now over a quarter of a century old, and, by the looks (and taste) of it, they're going strong.

PJ's BBQ, Route 9, South Broadway, Saratoga Springs, NY, (518) 583-CHIK & (518) 583-RIBS

aj

Open House

2009-08-16T22:06:00.000-04:00

fig. a: invitation

Sometime back in late June, we were part of a crack team of entertainers that had been enlisted to throw a summer bash commemorating a year in the Catskills. And, oh, what a year! In just 12 months, the M.H. Merchant Stone House had been restored, refurbished, and revitalized, local friendships had been cultivated, and roots (both literal and figurative) had been sunk deep in the ground. Not surprisingly, given this flurry of activity, The Caretakers were in a celebrating mood. We were thrilled to be invited to the festivities, and seriously honored to be asked to help represent.

So, bright and early, one fine Friday morning, we packed the AEB Mobile Unit full of barbecue gear and hit the road. We'd proposed a homestyle barbecue spread for the festivities, and The Caretakers liked our vision. The proposed menu looked something like this:

2 x 10-12 lb pork shoulders, applewood-smoked and pulled
Down East Baked Beans
Smokehouse Potato Salad
Tidewater Cole slaw
Poor man's caviar
Sweet tea
White Chocolate Cake & Strawberries

If many of these selections look familiar, there's a reason for that.

The next day, Saturday, was Party Day. When we'd arrived the day before, we'd hit the ground running, so a lot of our prep was already taken care of. On our last visit, Michelle and I had gathered a whole bunch of apple wood from the yard, so we had plenty of sweet-smelling fuel too.

fig. b: fruitwood 4 smoking

When I fired up the barbecue, it was still overcast, and threatening rain, and with all the rain they'd had over the last 4-5 weeks, the forest out back was bright, bright green.

fig. c: green forest, blue smoke

One of the last things we prepped was the sweet tea. We made a lot of tea, but it sure didn't look like it because the dispenser we were using could have held enough for the whole Russian Army.

fig. d: sweet tea

With all the prep work done, all the arrangements taken care of, it was time to wash up and make ourselves presentable for our guests.

fig. e: bathtime

About an hour before the guests showed up, with the shoulders still smoking away, I made a sign to advertise some of our offerings.

fig. f: what'll you have?

I spent hours tending the barbecue, but with my beers, my ballcap, my baseball glove and baseball, and my barbecue, not to mention the two most perfect shoulders I've ever seen, I was pretty much in hog heaven. Plus, I had a nice turntable to keep me company. These Caretakers had seriously thought of everything.

fig. g: bbq hi-fi

Minutes before the action got underway, with the shoulders nearing the moment of truth, Michelle and I took the time to have commemorative portraits taken.

fig. h: m & a

How did things turn out? The party was a huge hit, and, miracle of miracles, even though we'd had a number of downpours that very day, one of which was torrential, the skies cleared up right as the guests began to appear, the sun began to shine, and the evening was a perfect summer evening, with hundreds of fireflies dancing in the meadow, and thousands of stars in the sky. Our barbecue menu went over big--that combination of fruitwood and slow & low cooking made for the most succulent pulled pork and some sensationally smoky ribs--and we ended up making exactly the right amount of food: just enough to keep the midnight snackers occupied. But the real stars were the M.H. Merchant Stone House, its grounds, and its Caretakers. Everything was perfect, and--the true test!--the party soon took on a life of its own. Many of the guests had driven 2-3 hours from New York City and New Jersey to attend, and everyone seemed positively thrilled that they'd made the excursion.

A lot of people had heard that "a famous pastry chef" was part of the catering team, so there's no question that Michelle's dessert was eagerly anticipated. This being essentially a barbecue meal, she'd decided to go with a dessert that was more homespun. She'd settled on a simple, even foolproof, white cake whose tanginess (from the combination of buttermilk and white chocolate) makes for an ideal complement to fresh strawberries, and which she'd recently made a central part of her raspberry/pistachio dessert at Laloux. Strawberries were good and plentiful at the time, and Michelle envisioned following up the barbecue with something of a small-scale strawberry social. Now, if you live in Quebec, you might have noticed that the fraises d'automne are available now--if you've never tried them before, they're amazing, oftentimes even better than our summer strawberries, and this cake really lets them shine.

fig. i: quebec strawberries

White Chocolate Cake with Strawberries

2 c. flour
1 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/8 tsp salt
3 oz white chocolate, melted
1 1/2 sticks butter, soft
1 1/2 C sugar
4 yolks
1 tsp vanilla
1 C buttermilk
4 egg whites
1/4 C sugar

fresh strawberries, stemmed and quartered
sugar
lemon juice

Preheat oven to 350˚F.

Toss your strawberries with sugar and lemon juice to taste. Allow them to macerate while you make the cake.

Mix the dry ingredients together. Set aside. Cream the butter and first count of sugar together until light and fluffy. Add yolks one at a time, and scrape down the sides. Mix well. Add vanilla and melted white chocolate. Add buttermilk and dry ingredients alternately in 4 batches, ending with buttermilk. Set aside. Make a meringue with the whites and last count of sugar. Fold into the cake batter. Pour into a half-sheet pan (12” x 17”) lined with a silpat or parchment paper. Bake 15-20 min. Unmold when still warm.

Dress with some of your strawberries and enjoy.

[based on a recipe from Sherry Yard’s Desserts by the Yard]

The next day we celebrated the success of our celebration at a local swimming hole.

fig. j: water baby

And later that day we paid what's become a mandatory visit to Clare and Carl's on our way back to Montreal.

fig. k: clare & carl's

A half an hour later, on the other side of Plattsburgh, and with those ominous clouds now gone, we put the finishing touches on the weekend with a cone at another favorite of ours, Harrigan's Soft Ice Cream.

fig. l: harrigan's

Clare & Carl's, 4727 State Route 9, Plattsburgh, (518) 561-1163

Harrigan's Soft Ice Cream, 1247 State Route 3, West Plattsburgh, (518) 561-8110

aj

p.s. This post dedicated to the memory of Chico, who had the best personality, and the softest paws.

fig. m: sleepytime

Mountain High

2009-08-11T23:01:00.016-04:00

Our exhaustive study has proven incontrovertibly that not only does climbing Vermont's Camel's Hump mountain (a.k.a. Saddle Mountain, le Lion Couchant, and the Camel's Rump) have benefits that are both physical and spiritual, but making your way to the top of its 4,083-ft height has the effect of heightening the sensitivity of one's taste buds, making Vermont's already impressive range of delicacies that much more delicious.

Before we present our findings, you should know that the Camel's Hump is Vermont's third highest peak, but that it's #1 when it comes to undeveloped (or relatively undeveloped) peaks--meaning no ski hills, no radio towers, etc. Its summit sits above the tree line and consists of a delicate balance of rock formations and alpine vegetation. It also affords a glorious 360º view of the region. Not surprisingly, the Camel's Hump is one of Vermont's most beloved state parks.

Scramble your way to the top, stare eastward over the precipice, and the view looks something like this:

fig. a: due east

Put on your sunglasses, gaze westward toward Lake Champlain and the Champlain Valley, and the view looks something like this:

fig. b: due west

Lay your weary bones down, bask in the bright sunlight, and stare up into the sky and the view might just look like this:

fig. c: due up

Crouch down and take a close look at the surface of the Camel's Hump and, if you chose the right spot, the view would look like this:

fig. d: due down

Return to Red Hen

You know how we feel about Red Hen. We were so impressed when we visited Red Hen back in April that we wrote about them twice: here and here. This time we stopped in en route to the Camel's Hump. We were hoping to pick up some of Nutty Steph's granola for the trail at the same time, but it was a Monday, and Nutty Steph's was closed. Red Hen was open, though, and we took full advantage of their offerings: coffee, a couple of loaves of bread, a couple of sandwiches, and several pastries. The pastries--including one of their awesome ham & cheese croissants, an apple & ginger scone, and a plum & cheese Danish that Michelle promptly announced was "the Danish of [her] dreams"--were what we conducted our tests with. We had a couple of bites in the parking lot near the base of the Camel's Hump, then had the rest once we'd reached the summit. No doubt about it: flavors that were already complex and extremely satisfying became exponentially so at the top of the Camel's Hump. Remarkable!

Return to the Alchemist

You also know how we feel about The Alchemist. Our visit back in April was our craft beer highlight of 2009. Until now, that is.

This time we weren't 100% scientific--we didn't dare try the "before" and "after" thing, and we didn't haul any growlers to the summit to celebrate our triumphant ascent. We just paid a visit in the late afternoon, after we'd gone to the mountain (literally) and worked up a mean thirst. That said, as we settled into our bar stools and began quaffing our first pints, we both had the same impression. We both love our beer, but beer had rarely, if ever, tasted this good. Particularly refreshing on this particular post-hike evening was their Celia Framboise, the most satisfying fruit beer either of us has tasted outside of Belgium. Outstanding!

fig. e: signpost

The Green Cup

Even less scientific, but no less enjoyable, was the test we conducted in Waitsfield. We were thrilled to be back in Waitsfield, and excited to be trying out somewhere new, but the fact that we'd never been to this particular establishment before meant that we couldn't fully gauge the effects of hiking the Camel's Hump on our dining experience.

We first heard about The Green Cup back in April when we visited our friends at Hen of the Wood. We had a particularly excellent server that night--she was knowledgeable, even passionate about her wines, she fielded all our silly, nitpicky questions with grace and charm, and she was happy to discuss Vermont's farm, dairy, and dining scenes at length with us. She gave us a number of tips that night, but the one that really stuck with us was The Green Cup, a tiny café/restaurant in Waitsfield that she claimed had one of the best kitchens in the state. In fact, she told us that Eric, the chef at Hen of the Wood, had had the very finest meal he'd ever had in Vermont at The Green Cup. Given our experience at Hen of the Wood, this struck us as high praise. I'm sure we would have gone the very next day if they hadn't been closed for their Spring Break.

It took us a few months to make our way back to Waitsfield and The Green Cup, but it was definitely worth the trip. Get this:

Rhode Island Squid and Elephant Trunk Sea Scallops with grapefruit, red onion, celery, lemon, and basil

Cornucopia Farm Skirt Steak Salad with lemongrass, cilantro, red onion, avocado, lime, mint, and leaf greens

Seared Arctic Char with Chanterelles three ways (tempura, raw, and roasted), green beans, and white grits

Homemade Fettucini with poached artichokes, a medley of mushrooms, browned garlic, and sweet basil

Again, I'm not sure if it was the effects of all that mountain air, but our meal at The Green Cup was nearly flawless. We loved Chef Jason Gulisano's intricate, perfectly balanced compositions and, quite frankly, Michelle just about lost it when she had that Vietnamese-inspired skirt steak salad. She couldn't have been happier.

The only thing that didn't totally blow us away was the carrot cake we had for dessert,* but according to Mark Bittman, we should have ordered the coconut cake. If only we'd known then...

So, there you go: hike well, eat well.

aj

p.s. Full disclosure: Michelle was a little sore for two to three days after our visit to the Camel's Hump (yet another effect of our hike!), but all that good food and drink made any and all suffering sufferable.

* Then again, by that time it was several hours after our hike.

3 out of 4 ain't bad

2009-08-08T12:43:00.004-04:00

Actually, according to the Gazette's own scale, it's "very good."

fig. a: latest review

Team Laloux continues to be on a roll. The latest coup came just this weekend: a very warm, very positive 3 out of 4 review from Lesley Chesterman in this weekend's Montreal Gazette. And, once again, Michelle and her desserts were singled out for particular praise:

Laloux's desserts hit a high under [Patrice] Demers, and that high continues under pastry chef Michelle Marek, who used to work as Demers's assistant. Marek has kept Demers's signature chocolate pot de crème on the menu, but the rest of the sweets are all hers, and are they ever good.

I like that her style is more simple than her predecessor's, and her buttermilk pannacotta with poached rhubarb and ginger scones is a testament to the fact that less is more. Her white chocolate cake with raspberries, pistachios and spiced frozen yogourt was so good that I could only steal one bite from my friend before he inhaled the rest.

If you want to get the full lowdown (which includes some rather fetching photographs of a few of Laloux's latest gourmandises), take a gander here.

And if you choose to visit Michelle and the rest of Team Laloux, you should know that her current lineup also includes a positively stellar apricot cream tartlet with a candied orange & hazelnut nougat glacé and a lavender caramel, as well as my personal favorite, an almond cake with cherries macerated in kirsch, candied almonds, almond granita, chamomile cream, and a cherry sorbet.

Go team!

Laloux, 250 avenue des Pins E., (514) 287-9127

aj

Field notes: NB/PEI/QC

2009-08-03T13:10:00.002-04:00

fig. a: early morning, Cabot Beach

Does the thought of Atlantic beaches, red cliffs, lookout towers, lighthouses, and countless shades of green appeal to you?

fig. b: late afternoon, Cabot Beach

What about copious amounts of oysters, lobster, scallops, mussels, haddock, and cod?

If the answer to both of these questions is an enthusiastic "Yes!," you're not the only one.

fig. c: "free tour map"

I recently had the opportunity to head out to New Brunswick--"THE 'Picture Province'"--on business, and I managed to extend the trip by a couple of days so that I could continue east towards the Northumberland Strait, the Atlantic Ocean, and the bounty of "The Garden Province," Prince Edward Island. This enhanced road trip was inspired in no small measure by a recent feature by our friend Melissa at The Traveler's Lunchbox, who, when she hasn't been busy making cheeseand butter, has apparently been making coast-to-coast trips from Seattle to Prince Edward Island. Melissa's PEI post is quite a bit more extensive than this one, and her photographs are endlessly more pro. Consider the following a series of stray field notes that just might encourage some of you who haven't been to the Atlantic Provinces (or some of you who haven't been in ages, like Michelle) to do so.

Fredericton, NB

Should you find yourself in Fredericton on a Saturday morning, you might very well want to make your way to this handsome building.

fig. d: W.W. Boyce York County Market

You see, every Saturday this building plays home to the W.W. Boyce Farmers' Market, a.k.a. the Fredericton Farmers' Market, and it's a dandy.

You'll find bakers, butchers, fish mongers, cheese mongers, and a wide assortment of other vendors (from sausages to samosas), alongside real, honest-to-goodness New Brunswick farmers, but my favorite stand was a stand that was run by a Mennonite family,

fig. e: "taste the difference!"

where I found my first perfect raspberries of the season, as well as some truly phenomenal maple syrup.

Sackville, NB

Sometime back in the 1990s, Michelle spent a summer in Sackville, home to Mount Allison University, the 2008 Cultural Capital of Canada, and the self-proclaimed Cultural Crossroads of the Maritimes, and it evidently left quite the impression on her. It may have been a short chapter, but it's a chapter from her life that comes up again and again. So when I found myself passing right by Sackville en route to PEI, I decided I had to pay a pilgrimage.

I called Michelle when I got to downtown Sackville and asked her where she used to hang out, and she just said, "The diner! You've gotta go to the diner!"

fig. f: Mel's

"You mean, Mel's Tea Room?"

"Yeah, that's the one."

So I did.

After all, Mel's is celebrating its 90th anniversary. Plus, with a sign like that, how could I resist?

Prince Edward Island

I liked Prince Edward Island from the moment its coastline came into view as I crossed the massive Confederation Bridge. In addition to the physical beauty of its landscape, there was the physical beauty of its mermaids to behold.

fig. g: mermaid, sandwich

And everywhere I looked there were signs that fresh seafood was readily at hand.

fig. h: Flex Mussels' mussels

By now this is practically a cliché, but when in Charlottetown, the locally raised, locally harvested mussels at Flex Mussels are not to be missed. I'd been wanting to check out Flex Mussels for a while, ever since I heard that John Bil, oysterman extraordinaire and former member of Team Joe Beef, had been enlisted to help get Flex Mussels NYC off the ground (for some reason, not only did this tidbit of information have me wanting to visit the NY operation, it had me wanting to visit the original, too). Flex Mussels Charlottetown was a little more swish than I was expecting (I'd always imagined something more along the lines of Go Fish), but the mussels were plump and fresh and very reasonably priced, and with the sun shining brightly and a steaming bowl of mollusks before me, I couldn't have been happier.

Hours later, I was looking out at the open waters of the Atlantic from Cabot Beach.

fig. i: early evening, Cabot Beach

Cabot Beach Provincial Park offers an awfully nice stretch of coastline, but it also has the advantage of being directly adjacent to Malpeque, PEI and the Malpeque Bay region. When you buy a Malpeque oyster in the Montreal region, there's a high likelihood that the oyster bed that it came from was nowhere near Malpeque Bay (Malpeque is something of an umbrella term for PEI oysters, just as Caraquet is something of an umbrella term for New Brunswick oysters), but if you go to Malpeque you can be sure that you'll find plenty of oysters.

fig. j: Malpeque harbour 1

Fishing is Malpeque's bread and butter. Cabot Beach brings in a fair number of tourists, but the focus here is on oysters, lobsters, mussels, and fish.

fig. k: Malpeque harbour 2

There are a number of fish markets and seafood restaurants in the region, but my favorite was the appropriately named Malpeque Oyster Barn.

fig. l: Malpeque Oyster Barn

Their oysters on the half shell were supremely fresh and expertly shucked, but the show-stealers ended up being their delicate, savoury fried oysters, made with more freshly shucked choice oysters and a light batter with plenty of herbs.

fig. m: Highland storm

As you drive across PEI, you see potato patches, potato fields, and potato farms pretty much everywhere you go. Occasionally (like on Day 2 of my visit), you see them with big dark storm clouds looming overhead.

fig. n: new potatoes

If you pay attention, you'll also see plenty of roadside stands advertising NEW POTATOES, many of them operating on the honor system,

fig. o: shells, trap

and some of them decorated with shells.

Should you find yourself in PEI during the height of summer, my advice to you is to pick up a bag (or two, or three...)

fig. p: PEI potatoes 1

and bring it home.

fig. q: PEI potatoes 2

These little jewels are easily the best potatoes either of us have had in a long while: lovely flavor, perfect texture.

fig. r: Landmark Café

Should you find yourself in Victoria-by-the-Sea, I, like Melissa before me, highly recommend the Landmark Café. Not only does its dining room bear a striking resemblance to ours here at AEB HQ, but they have a great little menu that's seasonal and PEI-proud, and they serve an awfully satisfying lobster roll.

Islet-sur-Mer, QC

fig. s: sign of the times

On the western edge of Islet-sur-Mer, QC, on the scenic Hwy 132, sits the Casse-Croûte Islet, a.k.a. the Casse-Croûte des Érables, a.k.a. Casse-Croûte INSERT NUMBER OF YEARS IN OPERATION HERE. When I first started going, the sign out front read "37." Now it reads "46." More importantly, it's a real, old-time roadside casse-croûte (outdoor seating only), it's been owned and operated by the same woman for 46 years (!), and their toastés, hamburgers, and fries rank a 5/5 on my personal roadfood scale.

They're so good, in fact, that whenever I head out east, I make a point of stopping on the way out and on the way back.

Be Prepared

Oh, yeah. And if you drive to New Brunswick, PEI, and/or Eastern Quebec, bring a cooler. I returned with several pounds of mussels and oysters, some smoked cod, and a bag of potatoes, and a couple of hours later Michelle and I were sitting down to yet another seafood feast.

W.W. Boyce Farmers' Market, 665 George St., Fredericton, NB--Note: Saturdays only, 6:00 am - 1:00 pm

Mel's Tea Room, 17 Bridge St., Sackville, NB, (506) 536-1251

Flex Mussels, 2 Lower Water St., Charlottetown, PEI, (902) 569-0200

Malpeque Oyster Barn, Malpeque, PEI, (902) 836-4322--Note: only open July 1 to September 1

Landmark Café, 12 Main St., Victoria-by-the-Sea, PEI, (902) 658-2286

Casse-Croûte Islet, Hwy 132, Islet-sur-Mer, QC--Note: only open from May through September

aj

fava up first

2009-07-19T22:19:00.007-04:00

fig. a: the three faces of fava

As Alice Waters puts it in Chez Panisse Vegetables, "The fava bean, Vicia fabia, was the bean of Europe before contact with the New World." A few hundred years later, the fava bean--especially in its young, tender, spring/summer incarnation--became the bean of California Cuisine. Waters goes on to describe the scene at Chez Panisse every spring when the favas come into season:

Shelling fava beans has become a springtime ritual at the restaurant. Big baskets of them are brought out to keep all hands busy during long meetings, menu discussions, and even job interviews.

And in the Chez Panisse Café Cookbook, Waters puts it like this:

It's not uncommon in informal cafés in Europe to see waiters peeling garlic during a quiet time. At Chez Panisse, they peel fava beans--lots of them. Sometimes the customers standing at the bar help out.

Here in Montreal, fava beans are hardly an important part of the local cuisine--nouvelle or otherwise--but there is certainly enough of a Mediterranean presence in the region (thank god!) to make fava beans a part of our seasonal, early-21st century diet. You definitely have to go out and look for them, though--in your markets, in your seasonally minded restaurants. And, remember, the season is short. As indicated above, fava beans are very much a harbinger of spring in Northern California. Around here, however, they're a mid-summer crop, and, friends, the time is now.

To get the full fava bean experience, you have to do a little work--shelling and peeling them requires some determination because you have to get from that big, long, fleshy pod stage, to that pale green/off-white stage, to that bright green stage [pictured above]--but all that work pays off, because once you've managed to extract that bright green, kidney-shaped bean from its protective layers, the cooking time is practically instant, and its seductive charms are immediate.

Most standard accounts of shelling and peeling favas go something like this one in Alice Waters, Patricia Curtan, and Martine Labro's Chez Panisse: Pasta, Pizza, and Calzone:

Picked young enough, they can be shelled and eaten raw, skin and all. When they are a little older and the skin is no longer bright green, they must be skinned. A good way to do this is to blanch the shelled beans for a minute or so [elsewhere Waters recommends "30 seconds to 1 minute"] in boiling water. Drain them and allow to cool. Use your thumbnail to pull open the sprout end and squeeze the bean out of its skin. It will pop right out. Once you get the hang of it, this goes very quickly.

Some chefs, like Zuni Cafe's Judy Rodgers, prefer keeping fava beans raw, arguing that the blanching process, however short, changes the texture of the beans too much. But in our own experience, blanching the beans for 30-60 seconds has produced the results we've been the happiest with. If you want to give raw fava beans a spin--and there's no reason you shouldn't--both Rodgers and Waters recommend serving them in the Tuscan style, with salami, and possibly a sheep's milk cheese (Rodgers also recommends a Ligurian white--Vermentino "Vigna U Munte," Colle dei Bardellini, 2000--as her wine pairing).

But, like I said, our favorite fava bean preparation involves blanching the beans slightly, then gently sautéing them to create a basic ragù. The last fava bean dish I made was based on this recipe from Waters, Curtan, and Labro's book:

Fettucine, fava beans, saffron, & crème fraîche

1/2 pound [fresh] fava beans
1 tbsp virgin olive oil
1 clove garlic
salt and pepper
a few fresh basil leaves
3/4 cup crème fraîche
saffron
fettucine for 2
fresh chives

Shell and skin the fava beans [see directions above]. Cook them gently in olive oil with the chopped garlic for 2 to 3 minutes. Season with salt and pepper. Add some basil leaves cut in ribbons, the crème fraîche, and a small pinch of saffron. Cook another few minutes, then cook the fettucine and add to the beans. Season the noodles with salt and pepper and toss with the favas. Serve garnished with a sprinkling of chives.

I liked the idea of combining sautéed fava beans with saffron, but I also wanted to combine them with ricotta salata, an idea I'd swiped from yet another recipe. Our fava bean and pasta recipe went something like this.

Fava beans & farfalle

1 pound fresh fava beans
1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
saffron
3 cloves garlic, finely minced
zest from one lemon, finely minced
4 spring onions, chopped
1 lb farfalle
1/2 cup grated ricotta salata
salt and pepper
basil leaves

Shell and skin the fava beans [see directions above]. Heat the olive oil in a frying pan over medium heat. Add the saffron, stir briefly so that the olive oil begins taking on the saffron's color, then add the fava beans. Sauté the beans for 30-60 seconds, then add the garlic and the lemon zest and sauté for another few minutes, until the garlic becomes lightly golden. Turn off the heat and add the spring onions, folding them into the mixture.

Meanwhile cook the farfalle until al dente. Drain the pasta, reserving about a cup of the pasta water.

In a large bowl, mix together the pasta, the fava bean mixture, and the ricotta salata, adding a bit of the pasta water if the combination seems dry [note: you may not need to add any additional liquid]. Salt and pepper to taste, keeping in mind that the ricotta salata is very salty (hence the name), so make sure to taste the pasta before adding any salt, because you might not need any.

Have fun. Act fast. Eat well.

Good sources for fava bean recipes:

Judy Rodgers, The Zuni Cafe Cookbook
Alice Waters, Chez Panisse Vegetables
Alice Waters, Chez Panisse Café Cookbook
Alice Waters, Patricia Curtan, and Martine Labro, Chez Panisse: Pasta, Pizza, and Calzone
Paula Wolfert, Paula Wolfert's World of Food

Great source for fava beans:

Birri & frères, Jean-Talon Market, 276-3202

aj

Bytown Bivalves

2009-07-17T10:14:00.006-04:00

fig. a: l-r: taps, oysters, turntable

Taps, oysters, turntable. What more do you need?

How about a seriously outstanding kitchen, first-rate, sustainably harvested seafood that's sourced in-house, and friendly, knowledgeable service? Or how about a place that runs its own sustainable oyster & fish store, wholesales their seafood to local restaurants, and hosts an annual oyster festival?

Sound too good to be true? Well, believe it.

And just where is this oyster oasis, this seafood sanctuary? Ottawa. That's right, Ottawa, at a cozy little place called The Whalesbone on Bank Street.

Yes, Montreal is a couple of hundred kilometers closer to the Atlantic, yes, Montreal sits on the St-Lawrence Seaway, and, yes, there's no shortage of good seafood in this town. But exceptional seafood? Those places you can count on one hand. And, I'm sorry, but there's nothing in Montreal that resembles The Whalesbone. For years now, we've been praying for someone to open a straight-up raw bar here in Montreal. Nothing fancy, just a simple counter, a knowledgeable staff, and plenty of supremely fresh seafood. Something along the lines of this. To this day, our prayers have gone unanswered. Why? Who knows... It's just another one of the Mysteries of Montreal.

But we've got to hand it to these Whalesbone people--not only are they talented, but they're smart, too. They've got the oyster house, they've got the oyster & seafood supply, they've got the oyster festival, and they cater a helluva lot of oyster parties (think embassies, think government office parties, think corporate office parties...). Talk about a business plan.

I'd gotten my first taste of The Whalesbone's magic on a business trip back in May, and it left such a powerful impression that I promised Michelle I'd take her there just as soon as I could. Two weeks ago, when I had to go back to Ottawa to do some research,

fig. b: Montreal by night

I made good on my promise. What did we have? Well, we got two small platters of oysters (we balked at the Shucker's Choice, found that one just wasn't enough, and we came this close to getting a third, bringing us up to 18, and just asking our friendly neighborhood shucker to cut us the Shucker's Choice price retroactively), consisting of Colville Bays (P.E.I.), Eel Lakes (N.S.), and St. Simons (N.B.). The Whalesbone had an impressive assortment of sauces and condiments to go along with the oysters, including an incendiary Scotch Bonnet pepper sauce and some 12-year-old Scotch, but these oysters were so good, so totally evocative of the Maritime waters from which they were harvested, that we kept things simple (Michelle likes a bit of lemon, I take the occasional dash of Tabasco, and we both love freshly grated horseradish [see below]).

fig. c: oyster platter*

Then we moved straight into our mains: Michelle got the hand-picked Qualicum Beach (B.C.) scallops with garlic scapes, the creamiest white navy beans, double smoked bacon, bitter greens, and maple (A+); while I got the Catch of the Day, which was an absurdly good combination of lobster, scallops, halibut, and wild mushrooms (A+). And we topped things off by dipping into their brilliant sundaes bar (one scoop for $7, two for $8, three for $9, and tons of great homemade toppings, like boozy strawberries, butterscotch, and artisanal honey). All this plus a nice selection of ice-cold Ontario microbrews on tap, and some choice tunes (Jackie Mittoo, The Band) on the turntable (no ipod here). Actually, now that I think about it, our friendly neighborhood shucker was doing some serious multitasking--not only was he furiously shucking platter after platter of oysters all night long, not only was he indulging the two of us with repartee, but he was also our friendly neighborhood bartender/friendly neighborhood DJ.

The Whalesbone Oyster House, 430 Bank Street, Ottawa, (613) 231-8569

Whalesbone Sustainable Oyster & Fish Supply, 504A Kent Street, Ottawa, (613) 231-3474

aj

*This was not one of our oyster platters--we were too busy diving into ours to take pictures.

Currant events

2009-07-10T10:38:00.006-04:00

fig. a: red currants

It's that time of year again, and over at Pavillon de la Pomme, our favorite local autocueillette establishment, you can find both red currants

fig. b: black currants

and black currants at the moment, with blueberries, gooseberries, and others on the horizon (if the Good Lord's willing, and the sun keeps shinin', that is). Red currants are a personal favorite, and you can definitely find enough for all your home canning needs, but a late frost and a whole lot of rain hasn't made for the best crop. Black currants, on the other hand, are a considerably heartier variety, and they seem to have absolutely thrived. We found the black currant bushes heavily laden with perfectly ripe berries, so we focused our attentions on them.

While you're out there, don't miss out on Pavillon de la Pomme's apple cider, apple cider vinegar, honey, and maple syrup (look for their private reserve in the clear glass bottles),

fig. c: fresh eggs

not to mention eggs so fresh their yolks will get up and talk to you.

aj

5/5

2009-07-09T21:48:00.011-04:00

The New Laloux received its first review in the local press earlier today.

fig. a: Chaises Musicales 2, the sequel

The review appeared in Voir and, as you may have already surmised, it was the second part in a series on a "musical chairs" trend in Montreal's current fine dining scene.

Anyway, I think it's safe to say that Gildas Meneu's review is a glowing one. Just how glowing? Well...

fig. b: count 'em

(That's five out of five, or "grande table.")

Now, Éric Gonzalez is probably used to this kind of praise--he's been a critical darling everywhere he's touched ground in Montreal, and he even has a Michelin star under his belt. Michelle, however, is new at this game. This is the very first time she's been reviewed as head pastry chef, and Meneu's review was enthusiastic about her desserts:

DOUCEURS

Ici, Éric cède la place à Michelle Marek (en charge également du menu du Pop!, juste à côté), talentueuse pâtissière qui traite les desserts comme des plats à part entière. Si le fameux pot de crème de Patrice Demers figure toujours à la carte, tournez-vous plutôt vers ce gâteau aux amandes et aux cerises couvert de crème de camomille, d'un granité d'amandes et d'un sorbet à la cerise. Une petite merveille. Ou encore vers les doux contrastes du gâteau moelleux à l'orange et épices et son crémeux de chocolat aux noisettes grillées. Pas sûr que vous vous en remettrez.

For those of you out there in cyberland who might be francophonically challenged, we thought it might be funny if we enlisted the aid of Babel Fish in translating. The results looked like this:

SOFTNESSES

Here, Eric also yields the place to Michelle Marek (in load of the menu of the Pop one!, just at side), talented pâtissière who treats the desserts like dishes with whole share. If the famous pot of cream of Patrice Demers always appears in the chart, turn you rather towards this cake to almonds and cherries covered of cream of camomile, d'a granite d'almonds and d'a sorbet with cherry. A little marvel. Or towards soft contrasts of the marrowy cake with l' orange and spices and its crémeux of hazelnut chocolate roasted. Not sure that you will go back from there.

Mmm, marrowy cake!

The translation was so awful (predictably so), that it reminded us of a favorite cartoon of ours:

fig. c: Spy, December, 1987

If you're confused, a somewhat less automated translation might read as follows:

SWEETS

Here, Éric yields to Michelle Marek (who's also in charge of the menu of Pop! next door [Michelle's only in charge of the cocktails and the desserts at Pop!, not the entire menu--ed], the talented pastry chef who treats her desserts like dishes in their own right. Even though Patrice Demers's famous pot de crème still figures on the menu, direct yourself towards the cherry and almond cake with chamomile cream, almond granita, and cherry sorbet instead. It's a small marvel. Or towards the delicate contrasts of the orange & spice sponge cake and its chocolate crémeux with toasted hazelnuts. I'm not sure that you'll ever look back.

Top Ten #30

2009-07-06T23:42:00.005-04:00

fig. a: Only Angels...

1. Only Angels Have Wings, dir. Hawks

2. Toronto the Good

fig. b: A16

3. Nate Appleman and Shelly Lindgren, A16 + Meatball Mondays

4. A Young Summer Party, Cornwallville, NY

fig. c: Sonic Youth

5. Sonic Youth, The Eternal (Matador)

6. The Whalesbone Oyster House, Ottawa

fig. d: Alice Coltrane

7. Alice Coltrane, Journey in Satchidananda (Impulse)

8. Happy Go Lucky, dir. Leigh

fig. e: Abner Jay

9. Abner Jay, True Story of Abner Jay (Mississippi Records)

10. the new Laloux, Montreal

Toronto Notebook

2009-07-02T23:13:00.003-04:00

For the most part I was there to hunker down in the archive of a library

fig. a: Space: 2009

so that I could do some research on some pioneering figures from the early history of Canadian cinema,

fig. b: les glâneuses et les glâneurs

but I was there for five days and four nights, so I also had a chance to do a little snooping around.

fig. c: mobile home

Libretto

I'd been reading great things about Pizzeria Libretto for a while, and I'm pretty much always in the mood for a good pizza, so when I found out my host hadn't been yet and was intrigued (if highly skeptical), it seemed like a natural.

Man, has Ossington ever changed. I remember staying out there with friends in the mid-1990s and things were pretty quiet--mostly just the odd Portuguese and Vietnamese establishments and a bunch of garages. Well, those days are gone. Ossington is lined with hip bars, restaurants, and boutiques, it's a full-on mob scene on Saturday nights (of course, the fact that it was NXNE at the time probably contributed to the mayhem), and the garage that sat next door to where my friends used to live is now some kind of post-industrial nightclub. Pizzeria Libretto is equally emblematic of the new Ossington. It's young, it's happening, it's packed to the gills, and house music throbs throughout the premises. There was a healthy line-up when we got there, but we were a party of two, so 45 minutes later (after we'd slipped out to kill a couple of beers at The Communist's Daughter, a great little neighborhood watering hole) we were seated at one of their communal tables, menus in hand.

It's not 100% clear that the crowd is there for the pizza or for the ideology*--it seemed to me like the clientele was more scenester than pizza connoisseur--but that's too bad because Libretto's pizzas really are great.

fig. d: the people have spoken 1

They've got a lovely crust, they're perfectly baked and blistered, and their toppings are well balanced and of premium quality. We both loved the House-made fennel sausage with caramelized onions and Ontario fior di latte, but the prize-winner might very well have been the basic Marinara D.O.P. with a bright San Marzano sauce, garlic, oregano, and a few basil leaves. That was certainly the one K. liked the most.

Think local, eat Universal

fig. e: Universal Oriental

The next evening I found myself attending Saloon Sundays (so called because they have a BYOB policy in effect on Sundays with no corkage fees to boot) at Universal Grill, a friendly, low-key neighborhood joint that's situated in a beautiful old diner space, one that dates back to the first half of the 20th century. M. ran (nay, speed-walked) back to her place to pick up a bottle from her cellar so that we could take full advantage of the free corkage, and we sank our teeth into Universal's tasty assortment of comfort food classics and neo-classics (crab cakes, jerk chicken, blackened snapper, finger-lickin' dry baby back ribs, and Key Lime pie).

Manic

Some of you may recall that Michelle once had the following to say about Manic Coffee: "The best coffee ever! The best! Ever!" Well, I wasn't about to pass that up, so I went and had a Manic macchiato.

fig. f: Manic macchiato

"The best coffee ever!" is a helluva claim, but after sampling the goods, I could understand Michelle's fervor. Later that night, 12 hours after what turned into an afternoon threepeat, I could still understand understand Michelle's fervor.

Enter Sandman

One afternoon I found myself wandering around Chinatown,

fig. g: since 1943

admiring the contrasts,

fig. h: since 1961

when I suddenly felt the lure of Kensington Market. Actually, more than anything, I was jonesing for another coffee and I remembered that I'd once had a pretty fine brew at Ideal Coffee. So there I was, heading down Nassau towards Ideal, when who should I run into but our good friend Sandy.

He invited me into his pad to hang out for a while, and while we got caught up, I sat there and admired the collection of wall-mounted pizza crusts he had on display in his well-appointed kitchen.

fig. i: better homes & kitchens

Then I picked poor Sandy's brain about local food & beverage finds. There are at least 2.7 million stories in Hogtown, and Sandy didn't want to overwhelm me, so he limited himself to two choice tips.

Dark Horse

Sandy mentioned that the crowd at Dark Horse might be interesting because of the fact that it's located in the Robertson Building, an historic Spadina Avenue building whose current mantra is "innovation, sustainability, community," and whose premises are something of a hub for Toronto's arts, design, and progressive politics communities. I didn't notice anything special about Dark Horse's patrons, but I did notice the Robertson Building's impressive Biowall,

fig. j: better buildings & gardens

and it was hard not to miss their gleaming white espresso machine.

fig. k: white heat

Even better: they knew how to use it.

fig. l: Dark Horse macchiato

Another day, another fine macchiato. Although, this time, fearing another night of involuntary jitterbugging, I limited myself to just one.

Mother's

Mother's Dumplings is a 21st-Century Chinatown classic, Sandy told me, a small, underground establishment that's used the power of the handmade dumpling to build a fanatical following since they opened their doors in 2005.

fig. m: The Shadow knows

Just one taste of my first pork & chives steamed dumpling was all it took for me to join their ranks.

fig. n: the people have spoken 2

A real handmade dumpling can those of us who love them a little crazy, and Mother's Dumplings' walls were testament to this particularly pleasurable affliction.

AGO

With all the buzz surrounding the newly Gehry-fied Art Gallery of Ontario, I had to go and take a look, but Frankly it wasn't the new entrance, the glass & wood facade, the sculptural staircase, or south wing that impressed me,

fig. o: self-portrait

it was the elevators.

Balm on Gilead

Years ago now, Michelle and I had a superlative meal at Jamie Kennedy Wine Bar that we wrote about in some detail in these very pages. When someone suggested that I visit Jamie Kennedy's Gilead Café, his café-cum-production kitchen in Corktown, I was only too happy to comply.

I loved the look of the place from the moment we entered.

fig. p: someone's been canning

I loved the atmosphere too. The counter staff was warm and knowledgeable, the setting had that no-nonsense vibe you get when you're in close proximity to a working kitchen. It was hot out that day, and just outside there was a loud, dusty construction site, but inside, things at Gilead Café were calm and welcoming, and I instantly felt at home.

fig. q: JK burger

Gilead Café's menu is all about the comfort food, but here the comfort comes not only from familiar favorites, but from the flavors of the very best locally grown produce, locally raised meats, and locally produced artisanal cheeses. Take their house hamburger: the beef is pasture-fed, the cheese is Ontario artisanal, the greens are local and organic, and the mayonnaise, the ketchup, and the bun are all homemade. In other words, this ain't your typical diner burger, but more importantly it tastes just as divine as a real burger ought to.

K. took the pulled pork sandwich, and while it came with the kind of thick, tomato-based sauce that is less to my liking, the pork itself had been masterfully smoked in the big rig they have out back.

fig. r: JK desserts

Dessert was great too: a homey coconut bar, an organic Ontario apple (the best one I'd had in about 8 months), and another excellent macchiato.

Plus, how many cafés can you think of where you can pick up a 2.5-kg bag of organic, stone-ground Red Fife flour for the road?

Libretto, 221 Ossington, (416) 532-8000, www.pizzerialibretto.com

The Communist's Daughter, 1149 Dundas St W, (647) 435-0103

Universal Grill, 1071 Shaw Street, (416) 588-5928, www.universalgrill.ca

Manic Coffee, 426 College Street, (416) 966-3888, www.maniccoffee.com

Dark Horse Espresso Bar, 215 Spadina Avenue, (416) 979-1200

Mother's Dumplings, 79 Huron Street, (416) 217-2008, www.mothersdumplings.com

Art Gallery of Ontario, 317 Dundas Street W., (416) 979 6648, www.ago.net

Gilead Café, 4 Gilead Place, (647) 288 0680, www.gileadcafe.ca

aj

* In this regard, as well as others, Pizzeria Libretto appears to have been inspired by NYC's Una Pizzeria Napoletana (who can blame them?), although UPN's pizza manifesto is an outright smackdown by comparison.

on the market 1

2009-06-30T11:19:00.003-04:00

a continuing series on finds to be found in Montreal's markets...

fig. a: bajhis!

hot bhajis!

Devotees of Jean-Talon Market most likely already know this, but, after a lengthy hiatus La Dépense's delectable vegetable bhajis are back and, we're happy to report, better than ever. They're no longer sold out in front of the store--now you have head to the back of the store to get them--but they have a small, well-appointed kitchen that's dedicated entirely to the production of fresh bhajis, and they're just as good a deal as ever ($3 per order). And, never afraid to innovate, La Dépense has introduced their own currency to commemorate the return of the bhaji as well as to help facilitate their acquisition: Bhaji Bucks.

fig. b: bahjis!

How does the system work? It's as simple as 1-2-3: 1 ) You pay for your order/s at the front counter. 2) You get issued your very own Bhaji Buck/s. 3) You take your Bhaji Buck/s to the back of the store and hand it in to receive your order/s.

La Dépense, Aisle 4, Jean-Talon Market, 7070 rue Henri-Julien, (514) 273-1118, www.epicesdecru.com

fig. c: fresh Quebec chèvre

fresh chèvre!

Just across the aisle from La Dépense, you can find a stand called Chèvrerie de Buckland that offers a selection of particularly fine goat's milk cheeses. Their own line includes le Maréchal, an excellent firm, Tomme-style cheese, but our current favorite is the funny-looking specimen you see above, an ultra-mild, ultra-creamy fresh chèvre from Ferme Cassis et Mélisse in Saint-Damien-de-Buckland* that goes particularly well with fresh Quebec strawberries.

Chèvrerie de Buckland, Jean-Talon Market, Kiosk 116, (418) 789-2760, mbruneau@globetrotter.net

aj

* I've said it before and I'll say it again: roughly 50 years since the Quiet Revolution, living in Quebec continues to be an education in Catholicism (especially when it comes to the names of obscure Catholic saints).

WWDD

2009-06-25T20:40:00.005-04:00

He might very well grill halibut, that's what.

I was leafing my way through David Tanis's A Platter of Figs and Other Recipes the other day once again, reading up on what he has to say about grilling, when I came across his recipe for Grilled Halibut With Indian Spices.

fig. a: leafing through

I'd admired the recipe before, but this time it really clicked. I was in the mood to fire up the barbecue (once again), I was craving seafood, and, hell, I'm always in the mood for "Indian spices." Plus, I'd invited my Mom over for a barbecued meal, and I thought this one might keep her on her toes. Michelle had to work (again), but I asked her if she thought she might like a grilled halibut fillet when she came back home from work that night, and she said, "Uh, yeah, sure." Little did she know what was in store for her.

Grilled Halibut with Indian Spices

1 tsp cumin seeds
1 tsp coriander seeds
1 tsp fennel seeds
3 cloves
1/2 tbsp ground turmeric
1/4 tsp cayenne
4 halibut fillets, about 6-8 ounces each
salt and pepper
1 tbsp olive oil
15-20 cherry tomatoes, halved
yogurt sauce (recipe follows)
a small handful of mint leaves

Toast the cumin, coriander, fennel, and cloves in a dry cast-iron pan over medium heat until fragrant, about 2 minutes. Transfer to a spice grinder or mortar and grind until fine. Put the ground spices in a small bowl, add the turmeric and cayenne, and mix until well blended.

Lay the halibut fillets on a baking sheet and season liberally with salt and pepper. Drizzle with olive oil. Sprinkle the spice mixture over the fish, and, using your hands, massage it in. Cover and refrigerate the fillets for up to several hours (although 2 hours worked just fine). Bring the fish to room temperature before cooking, about half an hour.

Prepare a fire in a charcoal barbecue. Grill the halibut over medium coals 3-4 minutes per side, until just opaque throughout.

Arrange the halibut on a large platter and surround with the cherry tomatoes. Sprinkle the tomatoes lightly with salt. Spoon a little yogurt sauce onto each portion and pass the rest at the table. Sliver the mint leaves with a sharp knife and scatter over the plate.

serves 4

Raita is a natural with these grilled halibut fillets. Tanis's raita is a little on the new-fangled side (e.g. olive oil), but don't knock it till you try it. The grated ginger is a particularly inspired touch.

David's Raita

1 1/2 cups whole-milk yogurt
1/2 tbsp olive oil
1 tsp mustard seeds
1 tsp cumin seeds
2 garlic cloves, finely chopped
1 tsp finely grated ginger
1/2 serrano pepper, finely chopped
salt and pepper

Put the yogurt in a bowl. In a small frying pan, heat the olive oil over a medium flame. Add the mustard and cumin seeds. When the seeds begin to pop, add the garlic and let it sizzle briefly, making sure it doesn't brown, about 10 seconds or so.

Scrape the contents of the pan into the yogurt. Stir in the ginger and chile. Season the sauce with salt and pepper. The sauce will keep in the fridge for a day or two, but it tastes best freshly made, and once you've tasted it, you'll have a hard time keeping it around for a day or two.

fig. b: yellow medley

These recipes come from a menu Tanis calls "yellow hunger," and, as this name suggests, it's meant to be a composition in shades of yellow, with the halibut a vibrant yellow-orange. Sweet yellow tomatoes (cherry or not) haven't appeared on the scene here in Montreal yet (at least not local ones), so we recommend going the sweetest red cherry tomatoes you can find. Tanis accompanies his halibut with a gorgeous salad of shaved summer squashes and squash blossoms, but they too have not yet arrived. So I broke up the yellow theme a bit by grilling some fennel, and roasting some potatoes using the Zuni Cafe method (I did use Yukon golds as my potatoes, though). The medley of yellow idea is a nice one, but Tanis encourages his readers not to be slavish:

This is a book of recipes and menus, but I hope what it is, too, is a book about cooking by instinct--improvisational, the sort of cooking that doesn't need a recipe.

Free your mind and your food will follow, or something to that effect.

All I know is that halibut has rarely tasted this good and that the meal was a huge hit. You should have seen the look on Michelle's face when she sat down to the spread before her.

aj

ChangesTwo

2009-06-24T09:15:00.004-04:00

Meanwhile, back at the ranch...

fig. a: smoke gets in my lens

Ever since May, when we finally made the switch back to charcoal grilling after years of working a gas bbq, I've been like a kid with a new toy. The toy in question, is just a classic 18.5" Weber One-Touch, but the charm has yet to wear off, and with Michelle working crazy hours, I've had a whole lot of time to carry out a lot of experiments in lump-coal burning, slow & low barbecuing.

I pity the birds that happened to build their nest just a few feet above our barbecue spot. They got seriously smoked out--over and over and over again. (At least, the smoke in question was fragrant applewood, hickory, and mesquite.) I kinda pity our neighbors, too. They weren't getting blasted with smoke the way those birds were, but the sweet, sweet smell of all that applewood-, hickory-, and mesquite-smoked meat must have been torture.

How much grilling are we talking about? Jerk pork, jerk chicken, jerk shrimp. Pulled pork, ribs, and smoked chicken. Steaks and kebabs of all sorts. Salmon steaks and halibut fillets. Fennel, eggplant, bell peppers, potatoes, mushrooms, and tomatoes.

One of the best of our recent grillfests was a night where we made a Cowboy Rib Eye recipe by Dallas chef Stephan Pyles that we'd found in Saveur (it wasn't difficult, the recipe was featured prominently on the front cover).

We followed Saveur's recipe closely, although we replaced the ground chipotle with ground Oaxacan (smoked) pasilla chile (because that's what we had on-hand), we started the entire process just a few hours before we started grilling instead of a day earlier, and we made it for two instead of four. We didn't change anything about Pyles' accompanying onion rings, though. We figured there was no sense with frying up half an onion's worth of onion rings, and that if there were any leftovers, we could refry them the next day.

fig. b: in the raw

Texas-Style Steak with Spicy Onion Rings

1/8 cup plus 1/2 tsp sweet paprika
1 1/2 tbsp kosher salt
3/4 tbsp ground guajillo chile
3/4 tbsp ground pasilla chile
3/4 tbsp ground chipotle (or smoked pasilla chile)
3/4 tbsp sugar
2 x 16-oz bone-in rib-eye steaks
Canola oil, for frying
1 small yellow onion, cut crosswise
into 1/8"-thick rings
1 cup milk
1 1/2 cups flour
1 tbsp chili powder
1 tsp cayenne pepper
1/2 tsp ground cumin
1/4 tsp ground black pepper

In a medium bowl, whisk together 1/8 cup of the paprika, 1 tbsp of the salt, the guajillo, pasilla, and chipotle chiles, and the sugar. Put steaks on a parchment-lined baking sheet; rub with the chile mixture. Refrigerate steaks for several hours or overnight.

Make the onion rings: Pour oil into a 4-qt. saucepan to a depth of 2"; heat over medium-high heat until a deep-fry thermometer reads 350°. Meanwhile, put the onions and milk into a bowl; let them soak for 20 minutes. In a large bowl, whisk together the remaining paprika and salt, flour, chili powder, cayenne, cumin, and pepper. Working in batches, remove the onions from the milk, shake off the excess, and toss them in seasoned flour. Fry the onions until crisp, about 3 minutes. Drain on paper towels; season with salt. Set aside and try not to devour them before the steaks are done.

Build a medium-hot fire with mesquite charcoal or lump charcoal + pre-soaked (minimum 1/2 hour) mesquite chips. Grill steaks, turning once, until medium rare, about 12 minutes. Serve with the onion rings.

Serves two hungry souls.

This makes an utterly stupendous steak, and the mesquite really brings out all its Tex-Mex/cowboy qualities. The onion rings are outstanding too. As much as I love a great beer-battered onion ring, these were way simpler and spicier, and just as satisfying.

Now, never wanting to waste a good charcoal fire, I had the idea the bright idea of cooking a rack of ribs while the steak was chilling in the fridge. We made an old standby of a recipe, but this was the very first time we'd cooked them on the grill from start to finish. It was also the first time we'd cooked them over mesquite. What took us so long? Who knows? These new, improved ribs were thoroughly mind-blowing. We had them as our "appetizer." Absurd, I know. We made a bunch of vegetables in addition to the onion rings, but, sadly, they've since disappeared into a smoky haze.

One last thing: the Texas-Style Steak rub makes for a great Texas-Style Barbecued Chicken rub too (as I found out about a week later).

"Texas-Style" Barbecued Chicken

1 whole chicken
Texas-style steak rub
2-4 garlic cloves
room-temperature beer
cider vinegar
crushed red chile flakes

Rinse and pat dry a whole chicken. Add a bit of olive oil, rub it all over with that chile-based rub, add a couple of unpeeled garlic cloves to the cavity, and let it sit, covered, in your refrigerator for at least a couple of hours and preferably an entire day or overnight. Take your bird out of the fridge and let it come to room temperature. Meanwhile, start your fire, setting your barbecue up for some indirect cooking (coals and/or mesquite wood to one side, water-filled drip pan to the other, vent overtop the drip pan). You want a medium fire for your chicken. You can also make your mop now, mixing equal parts warm beer and cider vinegar, and adding salt and crushed red chile peppers to taste. When the coals are ready, place the chicken (breast-side up) on the grill over the drip pan, and close the lid, keeping the barbecue fully vented. Smoke the chicken for 2 1/2 - 3 hours, without ever moving the bird if at all possible, just adding some coals/wood from time to time to keep the fire at a relatively consistent temperature. Resist the temptation to check the fire for the first hour. After an hour, check your fire every 30 minutes, taking the opportunity to mop the bird each time. The bird is done when a knife poked into a thigh produces juices that run clear. If you want to be more accurate, use a meat thermometer to check for doneness. But be patient--a medium-small chicken will take a good 2 1/2 hours. It's worth it, though. The first time you make it, you might have your doubts (in spite of your mopping, the skin will look leathery and dry), but this makes for one fantastically flavorful fowl (juicy too!), and any leftovers can be transformed into a chicken salad that is simply heavenly.

Note: again, I highly recommend the use of mesquite for this dish. Its mineral smoke marries particularly well with this rub.

Okay, people--get your grill on.

aj

ChangesOne, rev. ed.

2009-06-15T23:19:00.010-04:00

fig. a: wry smile

Why the wry smile?

First there was pastry school. Then there was Les Chèvres & Le Chou. Then there was La loux. And now there's, well, Laloux.

There were also some important stages and a whole lot of silly blog business along the way, but for years now Michelle was always careful to correct people when they referred to her as a "pastry chef." "Pastry assistant," she'd tell them.

Until now, that is. You see, for about a month now, Michelle has actually been a full-fledged pastry chef. Her longtime chef and mentor, Patrice Demers, decided to pursue an opportunity across town, and suddenly, and quite unexpectedly, Michelle found herself promoted to head pastry chef. It's been a hectic few weeks, with her fair share of twelve-hour days, but Michelle's happy to report that things are going very well, indeed, her new desserts have been a hit, and an entirely new slate of desserts is just weeks away. Meanwhile, the savoury side of the kitchen also has a new chef: Eric "Cube" Gonzalez. And Pop!, Laloux's bar à vin has enlisted the formidable talents of James MacGuire as creative director. Talk about a Dream Team.

fig. b: rhubarb special

Michelle's menu:

far breton with candied walnuts and Armagnac ice cream

buttermilk panna cotta with rhubarb soup, rosemary flowers, ginger shortcakes, and rhubarb compote

orange spice cake with dark chocolate cremeux, caramelized hazelnuts, candied orange, and hazelnut mayonnaise

and, as of today,

pain de Gênes, kirsch-soaked cherries, chamomile cream, almond granita, and cherry sorbet

But, look out! Summer fruits are just beginning (hence her new cherry dessert), and Michelle's got big plans!!

As per usual, Laloux's desserts are available both at Laloux and at Pop!, the bar à vin next door.

aj

Green Mountain Getaway 2

2009-06-14T00:01:00.006-04:00

If Day 1 had been all about variety, Day 2 was much more focused: bread, bread, and more bread. All of it exceptional.

Return to Red Hen Baking Co.

The day before we'd mostly just taken a look around, found out the baking schedule, and made arrangements to come back. This time around, though, Michelle was all business. She ordered about four loaves, including their four-grain, three-seed Mad River loaf and their wonderfully sour pain au levain, because she wanted to conduct a small survey of Red Hen's line of breads.

fig. a: Red Hen comes home to roost

As promising as our crusty, long-fermented Red Hen Baking Co. loaves looked,* our more immediate concern was coffee and breakfast, and the folks at Red Hen were happy to indulge us. And their selection of morning breads was so downright tantalizing that we didn't hold back: one croissant, one ham & cheese croissant, one lemon currant scone, and, it being just days before Easter, one hot cross bun. The croissant was quite simply a superior croissant, the kind of croissant that sets a bakery apart from 98% of the competition, the kind of croissant that secures a bakery's reputation. The ham & cheese croissant could have been just some kind of Americanized gimmick, but with that superior croissant pastry stuffed full of North Country Smokehouse ham and Boggy Meadow Baby Swiss, it was a work of art and a true Vermont original.

fig. b: Red Hen scone

Not to be outdone was the utterly classic lemon currant scone. Michelle found it just a touch heavy on the lemon zest, and consequently a bit over-perfumed, but I was mightily impressed, and was all too happy to have more to myself.

fig. c: Red Hen hot cross bun

The pièce de résistance, however, was Red Hen's hot cross bun. It seems a little perverse talking up a bakery's hot cross buns in June, when Lent is another nine months off, but at least this'll give you plenty of time to plan a visit. The bottom line: I'd spent years looking for the perfect hot cross bun. Little did I know that it had been waiting for me in Middlesex, VT all along. Crusty and perfectly baked, subtly spiced, sourdough-based, not too sweet, but also unafraid of adding a little bit of cruciform icing to the mix. One was simply not enough.

Another brief stroll

Loaded up on carbs, we headed down into the Mad River Valley to Waitsfield and its friendly tourist information center. When we asked about walks/hikes in the vicinity, the woman at the desk recommended the Mad River Greenway. The Waitsfield area is absolutely riddled with trails, of course, but it being the height of Mud Season at the time, she felt the Greenway was our best option. Who were we to argue? Especially when the fields looked like this,

fig. d: shadows and tall trees

and the river looked like this.

fig. e: Mad River blue

The Greenway was friendly, too. One jogger passed us at one point, and as she did, she turned to us and said, "Hi. Or should I say, bon soir?" [sic], evidently because she'd seen the Quebec license plates on our car.

We just smiled and said, "Auf wiedersehen."

Hunger Mountain Coop

fig. f: facing Hunger Mountain

After grabbing another coffee in Waitsfield, we made our way to Montpelier and its Hunger Mountain Coop. We were already big fans of a couple of other Vermont coops--Burlington's Onion River Coop and Middlebury's Natural Foods Coop--but we'd never been to the Hunger Mountain Coop, even though we'd visited Montpelier before. Turns out it's not that surprising that we'd missed it on previous visits--it's a little tucked away, and you kind of have to be looking for it. Which we were. You see, we'd gotten a hot bread tip from a trusted source--namely, that Hunger Mountain carried Bohemian Bread.

fig. g: on the shelves @ Hunger Mt.

If you care about great bread and you're not familiar with Bohemian Bread, you should be. Robert Hunt and Annie Bakst's decision to say goodbye to the big city and start up an artisanal wood-fired brick oven bread operation in rural East Calais, VT is a story worthy of Helen & Scott Nearing or Mick & Alida Anderson. The fact that they make some of the finest loaves in Vermont makes the story all the better. Bohemian Bread is a small-batch operation so you have to know where to look. In addition to the Hunger Mountain Coop, you can also find them at Buffalo Mountain Coop in Hardwick, VT, Plainfield Coop in Plainfield, VT, and the East Calais Store on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, "usually after 1:00 PM." We highly recommend the effort. Bohemian's rosemary/lemon loaf was the single best bread we've tasted all year, and that's saying something, because Red Hen Baking Co. was no slouch.

Not that we limited ourselves to just getting Bohemian Bread at Hunger Mountain Coop. Vermont's coops always leave us feeling like kids in a candy store. They're so well-stocked with so many of our favorite things: cheese, beer, apples, bacon, cider, bread, flour, honey, raw milk...

Parker Pie Co.

From Montpelier, we drove deep into Vermont's Northeast Kingdom. Rumor had it that there was great pizza to be found in the Village of West Glover and we were hell-bent on finding it. I mean, we'd been eating bread all day--why stop now?

fig. h: exterior, Parker Pie Co.

The Parker Pie Co. is yet another totally emblematic Vermont small-business enterprise. Vermonters love their general stores. They love their pizza. And they also love their micro-brewery beers. This we know. The genius of the Parker Pie Co. is that it's a pizza parlor/micro-brewery beer specialist situated ever so informally in the back of a general store. The atmosphere is just as fantastic as you would imagine, the selection of beers is limited but top-notch, and the pizzas are honestly very, very good. They don't have a wood-fired oven, but they're making awfully good pizza pies in their commercial pizza oven. We seriously couldn't have been happier with our Vermont Smoke and Cure Sausage/mushroom/red onion number and our twin pints. And we took our sweet time to relax and soak in the ambiance before the drive home.

fig. i: interior, Parker Pie Co.

The hospitality was friendly too. Made us feel right at home.

fig. j: hospitality, Parker Pie-style

Talk about the perfect end to the perfect Green Mountain Getaway.

Red Hen Baking Co., 961B US Route 2, Middlesex, VT, (802) 223-5200, www.redhenbaking.com

Hunger Mountain Coop, 623 Stone Cutters Way, Montpelier, VT, (802) 223-8000, www.hungermountain.com

Bohemian Bread, East Calais, VT, www.bohemianbread.com

Parker Pie Company, 161 County Rd, West Glover, VT, (802) 525-3366, www.parkerpie.com

Many thanks to EB.

aj

* Later that day we were able to confirm just how excellent they actually were. The verdict: very excellent!