Sunday Dinner

So I was invited to a potluck Friday night. I immediately began to research recipes for covered, make-ahead, transportable dishes. As Friday night drew nearer, however, it was clear that "planning ahead" would involve "ordering a platter." (Thanks to Genji at Whole Foods, where sushi platters are pretty inexpensive). I did manage to get as far as purchasing the groceries for said covered dish, though, and come to think of it, I owed a few people a home-cooked meal. The concept of Sunday dinner began.

Inspired by recipes from http://www.epicurious.com/ and Martha Stewart's Quick and Healthy Cookbook, I had initially chosen a butternut squash, goat cheese and hazelnut gratin. But now that it was no longer my one covered dish, I had to figure out a good main dish. I gave some long, hard thought to attempting Thomas Keller's roasted chicken recipe from the Bouchon cookbook. Other home cooks had commented to me that this recipe was very easy! and delicious! I've eyed it a few times. This time, I sat down with it. Over coffee, in fact. I read about the brining, the sitting, the twine, the resting, and the jus. I associate brining with Thanksgiving and, honestly, other cooks. I just wasn't feeling it. Something about how I somehow make two small chickens or how Keller comments that at home, he just salts the thing and puts in the oven (well then, why bother with this brining craziness?). I was deterred.

I settled on the rosemary and garlic roasted chicken recipe from epicurious. As the reviewers commented, it was actually pretty easy. Step number one that made it easy was having the butcher, not me, butterfly the chicken, making for minimal raw chicken handling. Always a good thing. From there, you make a paste of garlic, rosemary, olive oil and juniper berries (which Whole Foods does not, in fact, carry, rendering them irrelevant to my little world), salt and pepper. Via a spreader, you slather the paste onto (and into) the chicken and roast over sprigs of rosemary. For an hour or so, depending on the size of the chicken. Which means you can essentially prepare the chicken in the casserole dish in the morning and worry about later. Ditto for the butternut squash recipe, which I will try to avoid copywright infringement by not reciting here. Together with a happy citrus tarragon salad, I have to say that for perhaps the first time ever, I was a cool and collected hostess, having already assembled the salad and simply pulling two casserole dishes out of the oven to serve.

As for Thomas Keller, well, someday.

Appearances to the contrary, those are really hazelnuts, not olives, in the butternut squash gratin in the above picture.

'British' food

'British' food
Originally uploaded by Frankie Roberto

Interesting selection of British food products in a shop at a ski resort in France.

Mack & Manco's

I did not grow up in Philadelphia. I did not vacation at the shore. In fact, I tend to call going to the ocean "the beach." I'd like to think, however, that I listen to the advice of friends. Among those from the Philadelphia area, who have fond memories of summers at the shore, I had received near unanimous recommendation of Mack & Manco's. I had even sampled it before, but never fresh. Nonetheless, it had become legendary in my mind.

Will I reveal to you that the emperor has no clothes? Not quite. But not quite the clothes you would expect from royalty. Mack & Manco's offers standard, reliable, thin-crust pizza. The ingredients are not extraordinary. I have not craved it since eating it. But I did enjoy it, given the time and place.

I was enjoying my off-season vacation at Ocean City with my happy ocean front condo, when some of my friends suggested biking there for a late afternoon snack. Mack & Manco's is apparently the Starbucks of Ocean City, with storefronts on every block (okay, just three, but seemingly close to one another). This being March, however, only the 9th Street post was open. We were cold and up for pizza, after mastering things like a "tandem bicycle" and the "tricycle" (built for adults with the giant basket and strange steering capabilities). I supply this context because any pizza at this point would be a welcome shift from the freezing wind in our face.

My one friend suggested we get an entire pie to split amongst the four of us, under the "we're not messing around here" approach. Large regular it was. The pizza is thin crust style and when piping hot, was somewhat tasty. I got the feeling that in about twenty minutes, the crust would have turned pretty hard. The sauce is swirled on top in several concentric circles with a thin consistency. The cheese tasted less of pure mozzarella and more of an unknown mix, yet I still wanted a bit more cheese in my cheese-to-sauce ratio. That being said, I have also sampled their white pizza and think it may be superior to their plain. Ultimately, Mack & Manco's was not much more for me than a nice break from the bike ride, scarfing down hot pizza on a cold day overlooking the ocean.

Perhaps Mack & Manco's is best appreciated for the reasons I enjoyed it -- the ocean and the camaraderie. That particular combination will always be legendary.

Mack & Manco Pizza has three locations in Ocean City, NJ, http://www.mackandmancos.com/.

Lemons and Shallots

Faced with the happy task of hosting a shore house for a rotating list of good friends, I knew I wanted to cook. A lot. And so I have. Perhaps it's the spring, but the recipes I have selected seem to involve lemons in some form, and shallots. Sometimes together. It's crazy fun.

Meal 1 - Lemon and Parsley Chicken with asparagus couscous. Born from my intrigue with pan sauces, wherein the pan remains of the sauteed chicken are used for their flavor, I stumbled upon a page of recipes for pan sauces in Cooks Illustrated. This one, which also calls for capers (Ocean City grocery stores seems devoid of capers for some reason), was also great without. To make it, after sauteing chicken cutlets pounded thin, add oil, minced shallots, chopped fresh parsley, butter, 1 teaspoon flour, 3/4 cup chicken broth, and 2 tsp. lemon juice. The shorehouse is also devoid of measuring spoons, so I suggest winging the ingredients. It still turns out well. Simmer until reduced and serve over the chicken.

Meal 2 - Shrimp and scallops with fresh herbs and lemon risotto. Thanks to Martha Stewart's Quick and Healthy Cookbook (now rather old, but still one of my all-time favorites), I discovered a risotto recipe that isn't quite as heavy as most risottos. This one calls for the usual leek sauteed in butter, then arborio rice with a 1:2 ratio to broth, but then 1 tbsp. lemon zest with 1 tbsp. lemon juice and fresh chives added at the end with a little more butter (it is, after all, Martha Stewart). No cheese. It's pretty amazing. I sauteed shrimp and scallops and then, when all were cooked (about 2 min. on each side), tossed them with fresh tarragon, basil, and, of course, lemon juice. Fresh and delicious.

Other recipes I've tackled have included eggs benedict (fresh lemon juice) and smoked salmon butter (look it up on epicurious.com, it's wonderful with pumpernickel and features shallots and lemon juice). There have also been a few non-lemon/shallot recipes and a few amazing co-chefs (thanks, guys!). In fact, my chile rellenos friend, who expertly made fresh guacamole for burritos, was surprised that the Martha Stewart recipe lacked lemon juice.

As it turns out, cooking in a kitchen roughly the size of my apartment that overlooks the ocean is pretty pleasant, regardless of the outcome. I'm attempting lamb tonight and perhaps some combination of shallots and red potatoes. Wish me luck.

Tria

Tria is a favorite haunt of mine, a reliable, consistent bar/restaurant in a great location. The menu focuses on three things -- cheese, wine, and beer, offering other items that complement these "staples." The pretentiousness quotient is surprisingly low, given the hip looks of the staff and the number of wines, beers and cheeses that I have never heard of, much less understand. In fact, the staff manages to be friendly and helpful, which is appreciated given the advice they need to provide.

Tria is also great because you can order (and simultaneously sit at a table) appetizers and drinks, just as easily as dinner. The appetizers, which change frequently but tend to include things like "warm poached black mission figs with gorgonzola and prosciutto di parma," are interesting and substantive. Items like "spiced almonds" and "parmesan olive oil potato chips" are priced at $2.50, and no appetizer -- or any dish, for that matter -- is over $10.

Tria offers a variety of bruschetta and panini, also good compliments to the beer and wine list. Of all the sandwiches (and I've tried most of them), I love the grilled cheese -- "three cheese & tomato panino with fontina, grana padano and goat cheese." The sandwiches are served with fresh greens, tossed in a light dressing with kosher salt. I have come to crave this sandwich and it ranks among the all time best grilled cheeses I've had. I also know people who crave the nutella panino, which is, in fact, as good as it sounds.

The wine, beer and cheese menus manage to convey a sense of humor, categorizing wines from "zippy whites" to "lighthearted reds" and beers from "invigorating" to "extreme." It's hard to go wrong with the cheeses, which are served with a taste accompaniment like honey, or nuts, along with bread, that are selected to highlight the particular cheese. Somehow, the descriptions work, at least for me, and are more clear than regional divisions or more traditional descriptors. I enjoyed a beer last night, a Tripel Karmeliet, that tasted unlike anything I've had before, with strong caramel and a rich bitterness in a lightly colored beer. It was listed under the heading, "profound." If only...

Tria is located at the corner of 18th and Sansom Streets, Philadelphia, Pa., photo thanks to http://www.triacafe.com/.

Supper

Supper comes close to perfection. It has many of the makings -- accessible but elegant staff and decor, different dishes that are interesting without being trendy, and a menu that takes advantage of seasonal ingredients. But a few dishes miss the mark. And at these prices, I expected better.

Those misses are easy to forget, however, in reflecting on the pleasing introduction we received. Seated at the corner table in the picture, I was treated to a view of the passers-by, always a favorite backdrop of mine. We ordered cocktails; I opted for the blood orange cosmopolitan, which somehow updates my now cliched penchant for the drink into something I'm not entirely ashamed to order. At our request, our server brought the gougeres featured at the bar, small and perfect cheese puffs. Despite not being warm, they nonetheless melted in our mouths.

The menu directs readers to order three plates per person and was divided into hors d'oeuvres, tartines and plates, with one large plate offering. I continue to be a little stymied when confronted with "plate" options. Especially at these prices, which ranged from $7 to $28. Should I aim to hit $50? Or pick the best three? Tough call. A tasting menu would be appropriate here, with this variety of options. Ultimately, unlike a tapas bar where plates are served as they are prepared, Supper serves in the more traditional way, from appetizers to entrees, although all are portioned in small plates.

First came the hits. Arriving first were the beets a la Grecque with orange, a dish I adored for its seemingly simple ingredients that enhanced the beets, providing a tangy tartness to their sweetness. Jealous of another table's selection, we ordered the artichoke and cauliflower fritters, done in a light batter that accented the vegetables perfectly. Next to arrive were Hama Hama oysters, cooked in the shell with pumpkin butter and wasabi, described to me as "amazing." I went for the foie gras special, which was served a bit underdone with a slightly runny center, served with a cornbread cake, amidst a sweet carrot puree. My salad of autumn vegetables, which featured the most amazing brussel sprouts I have ever tasted, along with pearl onions and turnips, was served with a slightly superfluous poached egg, lemon and truffle, the latter of which was a bit difficult to detect. Nonetheless, the flavors were fresh and interesting.

Then the misses. The seared paves of hamachi, with grains of paradise, blood orange and arugula, were a bit flavorless and overdone. Perhaps due to the thin slices (three were served), any "searing" essentially cooked the fish. One piece was handled more delicately and while the rich, raw flavor shown through, the seasoning itself failed to enhance the fish. The "grains of paradise" was served in a gelatinous, seared block that tasted burnt. Interestingly, when asked by the hostess about the meal, I mentioned my lack of enthusiasm for the hamachi, which she agreed got mixed reviews. Unfortunately, my server had recommended it. The ocean trout with brussel sprouts, parsnip and cider miso was promised to taste like salmon, which it did, but was otherwise bland. The sweetness of the cider miso failed to bring the punch of flavor that the underseasoned trout deserved.

The dessert menu was more limited than I expected. I ordered the chocolate souffle with chile pineapple soup, the latter being served in a shotglass, with a miniature shortbread cookie and vanilla ice cream on the side. The souffle was mostly liquid inside, although not entirely unpleasant, the tiny scoop of vanilla ice cream was insufficient to balance the over-rich taste. And the chile-pineapple soup? Tasted like a glass of pineapple juice, an extremely sweet taste that neither complimented nor stood up to the souffle. The rice pudding with Meyer lemon and blueberries was reported to be very good, however.

I wonder if my mixed review of Supper would be quite so mixed if it wasn't for the value/price ratio. Although called "plates," the entrees were served like entrees, priced as entrees, but offered in small portions. A more successful experience would be had by sticking with the lower priced plates, which offered interesting taste combinations and more successful preparations. The bar looked inviting, and although it was full as early as 6:00 p.m., it might be worth a visit.

Supper is located at 926 South Street, Philadelphia, Pa., (215) 592-8180.

Oh dear

12032008140
Originally uploaded by robinhamman

This is not a proper dinner is it.

Rouge

Most Philadelphians are familiar with Rouge, a Neil Stein creation that, in many ways, put Philadelphia restaurants "on the map." Whatever that means. For me, living "around" Rittenhouse Square (um, ten blocks or so down), it meant that thanks to Mr. Stein's push for sidewalk seating, I now had to step around seemingly pretentious diners and their poodles. But Rouge's prime location invites these visitors, situated directly across from the square, near enough to Walnut to be visible, small enough to feel exclusive. Over the years, I've made my peace with it and grown to enjoy the food.

So I found myself there after work on these days where spring seems genuinely eager to break through winter. With the daylight savings adjustment, my entire time there was spent in twilight, a perfect break after work. The drink selection was equally perfect; I ordered the "Bluecoat Martini" cocktail with some combination of gin, cointreau, ginger ale, and sour mix. Delicious and refreshing without being summer-y.

The menu is divided into small and large plates, which I confess I have begun to loathe in terms of deciding what to order. As a group, we went the multiple small plate route. I ordered the risotto, described as "crispy potato, parmesan, garlic butter & chives." Although offering a larger portion than the "small plate" as described, it nonetheless reminded me more of potatoes au gratin with a risotto texture. Pleasing, but missing the mark. The shrimp and lobster spring rolls, pictured below, were devoid of any discernible taste of shrimp, lobster, or mango as promised in the menu. I trust that it was in there, but it tasted more like a pleasant vegetarian spring roll to me. Pictured above was one last onion ring, deep fried in tempura batter (more were actually served with the dish, and quickly eaten). One last dish was the shrimp served with small diced underdone potatoes and what purported to be white wine foam, but tasted like ... nothing. Ah, foam. The star of Top Chef and the overpraised trend of the past five years. I am still not sold.

We ordered the chocolate chip bread pudding with vanilla gelato, which was unfortunately served with a berry sauce. My rule is never to mix fruit and dessert; pick one or the other. The bread pudding was good, but a bit dry. The chocolate, however, was the perfect darkness.

My review? I've had the burger there before and tend to think it's one of Rouge's stronger offerings. Stick with drinks, soak up the atmosphere and location. And enjoy spring.

Rouge is located at 205 S. 18th Street, Philadelphia, Pa., 215.732.6622.

Brasserie Perrier at Boyd's

When I was little, my grandmother enjoyed lunching at what was then Woodward and Lothrop's. Or Garfinkle's. Either way, before the one giant department store chain ate up all of the others, there was such a thing as the store cafe. It existed on the opposite end of the spectrum from the food court, perhaps on another plane. Ladies lunched there, enjoying themselves and exuding elegance. High tea was often served. Those days are mostly gone. Or so I thought.

Brasserie Perrier offers an update. Situated in the middle of Boyd's on the mezzanine level, decorated in posh purple and silver with leather accents, I couldn't help but feel like I was playing grown-up, being pampered and fully enjoying my retail experience. Meeting two friends there, I felt like I was part of a scene from a romantic comedy or chic lit book. I reclined comfortably in my plush chair with leather pillow and gazed upon Stuart Weitzman's latest red pump.

I relay this atmosphere since this is a lot of the charm to be had here. The menu offers a fairly standard line up of salads and sandwiches that you might expect. I chose a more hard core french cafe offering of the Croque Madame, with ham and cheese on thick white bread, topped with two eggs, sunny side up with bechamel sauce. Although somewhat predictable in taste, I nonetheless enjoyed it. We all started with the french onion soup. While appropriately decadently topped with gruyere, the cheese was far from browned and it lay on top of croutons rather than a slice of baguette. Otherwise, it was delicious and perfect on a rainy day. My friend got the beet salad, cutely served in a molded cup form which, to this day, still impresses me.

We lingered over coffee (I confess, lingering is one of my favorite pastimes lately). Our hipster waiter indulged our holding the table even after the place started to fill up around 1:00. Among larger life issues, we also managed to talk purses and fashion and I relayed my fear that the Boyd's retail folks would see me for the Target shopper I am and escort me out once I came near the designer labels. Nevertheless, for that moment, I felt like a grown-up. A rather affordable excursion, too, with soup, sandwich and drinks coming to $24 each with tip. And a delightful "ladies" lunch.

Brasserie Perrier at Boyd's is located at 1818 Chestnut Street, Philadelphia, Pa, and is open Monday through Saturday, 10:30-3:30.

La Viola

When anyone asks me where they should go to eat in Philadelphia, I send them to La Viola. It embodies the Philadelphia restaurant scene -- it's a BYO, it offers delicious, homemade Italian food, its servers have larger-than-life personalities and, best of all, it's cheap. I hadn't been in a while and this outbreak of decent weather prompted a visit.

Signage to the contrary, the La Viola outpost I've always enjoyed was closed. So I crossed 16th Street to its new "wing." Lucky I knew that they had expanded; there were no signs directing diners here, nor were there signs across the street naming the place. "La Viola Ovest," or La Viola West, beckons diners solely with a buttery glow and thick velvet curtains. Our hostess explained that the original location is closed on Mondays. Offering slightly more room than La Viola, the west location offers more seating as well.

The menu was interesting. A slight mirror to La Viola, the entrees are slightly more expensive, inexplicably so. My favorite grilled calamari dish was offered with shrimp at this location, albeit a measly addition with two smallish shrimp and none of the delicious grilled jus that I had enjoyed with bread across the street. Resisting my two standbys, the steak of the day (always delicious) and the lobster ravioli, I opted instead for the tagliatelle al salmone. I should tell you that the pasta is homemade, and this should prompt you to eat there, very soon. The pasta tastes homemade in that way that, after boxes of pasta, you forgot how much you love it. The dish was served in a pink cognac sauce, filled with a light creaminess and a hint of tomato that complimented the tender salmon. My friend ordered the caesar salad, which I both love and hate for its generous portion of garlic and dousing of dressing, perfectly contrasted against the crisp romaine and shaved parmesan. A vegetarian, she got the Penne Alla Caruso, featuring pencil point pasta in a vodka tomato sauce with peas and pancetta (minus the pancetta). Needless to say, we cleared our plates. Tiramisu is another favorite of mine here, but we managed to forego it, lingering instead over the bottle of wine and good conversation.

The price? $20 for each of us, for a sizable appetizer and entree. We got to bring the wine of our choice. The room was simple and cozy. It's what makes the Philadelphia restaurant scene truly great.

La Viola is located at 253 S. 16th Street, Philadelphia, Pa.; La Viola Ovest is located at 252 S. 16th Street. Photo thanks to http://www.philadelphia.citysearch.com/.