But I heard good things about an Ina Garten recipe that uses coffee in the cake batter. I tried it out.

I didn’t muck too much with the recipe since I’m not in a secure place to start messing with the careful formulas at play in baked goods. However, you can always play with the flavor profiles a bit.

Ina’s cake calls for coffee in both the frosting and in the batter. I kept things simple. I used a Scharffenberger cocoa in the cake, and used two kinds of Valrhona in the frosting. Because that was all that was left for the big “V,” it was an El Rey (the world’s best chocolate) that got shaved on top.

Ok, that was my only creative contribution: shaved chocolate on top.

The cake itself was moist, although the coffee flavor was not overwhelming. I almost think it could have used a little soaking of something fruity (not for moisture, but for the flavor) such as a berry or cherry something or another.

My only big mistake was only having salted butter at home: since I did, and realized it, I didn’t put salt into the cake, which called for it. Perhaps that’s why the cake is so much better when you get a little frosting mixed in!

After washing the strawberries and the leaves around the stem, be sure to dry them well. I dried them three times to make sure no water was left on the berries. They thankfully could be squeezed well without mushing, so they were perfect.

I used two types of Valrhona chocolate (76% and 42%, I believe) and mixed that with a 1/2 teaspoon of vanilla extract and 1 Tbsp. of butter. I melted it all over simmering water, then dunked the berries in, getting a good coat. Since the chocolate wasn’t too thin, you could manage to get a good, thick coat on the berries. I placed the berries on a plate covered in parchment paper.

After 30 minutes of refrigeration to set the chocolate, I took them out so they could be eaten at room temperature.

Bon appétit!

First were homemade pork and chive dumplings.

For 3 hours I wanted to cook my pork baby-back ribs. As the sun was still coming into the kitchen, I grabbed this photo:

of the ribs ready to go into the oven. Five-spice powder, salt, and pepper coated the ribs.

Meanwhile, a special glazing sauce for the ribs was reducing on the stove…

which included things like blood orange juice, ginger, and hoisin sauce. I painted the ribs a total of four times through the cooking process, in the last hour. They were falling off the bone.

Here were things as we were winding down… ribs, fried rice, and brussels sprouts (not sure they are Chinese, but we like them).

Happy Year of the Tiger

Is this turning into a habit? or a tradition?

They had the cutest fingerling potatoes at Whole Foods. So, I put them into a sauté pan with salted water for about 10 minutes.

Then, after being covered, I dump the water, and add some butter. More salt, pepper, and then after 5 minutes in the butter, I add 5 cloves of roughly-chopped garlic. To finish, I squeeze on a little lemon and herbs. Herbs tonight were dried thyme and fresh lemon thyme.

The chicken this time got a little massage in EVOO, then salted and peppered. I continued my tradition of 1 half lemon in the cavity, quartered. Tied up, I cooked it for the first 20 minutes at 450 degrees upside down. Then, I flipped it and cooked it for 30 minutes more right-side up. Checked for temperature, it was “just” under in in the thigh area (by 4 degrees) and a little over in another… time to let it come out and rest.

Perfect doneness… it was still moist and cooked through.

The sauce gets started with melted butter.

Then add Dijon mustard, salt, pepper, and a little lemon juice, and finally, your favorite herbs.

So, the sauce then goes over the carved pieces.

And for fans of the vegetable shot: Ina Garten’s brussels sprouts recipe with golden raisins. Simple, but genius.

They got cooked in a little bacon fat before being cooked-off for 15 minutes, covered, in the oven.

To finalize this grand meal, I whipped up a little bread pudding using left-over Panettone from the holidays, with a healthy dose of vanilla to the eggy/cream custard mixture. To guild the lilly, so to speak, I added some dark and white chocolate to the pudding. Outstanding comfort food.

The salad used a mustardy vinaigrette and simple sea salt with both heirloom greens and heirloom tomatoes. The sourdough baguette was excellent, procured from the Fresh Market.

The soup was a spur of the moment creation, made from freshly made chicken stock.

Recipe, for 2.

• Render the fat from lardons, Applewood-smoked (2 strips bacon)
• Sautée both a sweet and purple onion in the bacon fat until they take on color (15 minutes)
• Add 2 diced Yukon Gold potatoes, stir in the hot fat.
• Add 1 Tbsp. smoked paprika, stir.
• Add broth for two portions (around 5 cups)
• Cook for 20-35 minutes on a low simmer.
• Blend half of the soup in a blender, adding grated Asiago cheese and a heaping spoonful of crème fraîche. Blend, return to pot to heat and integrate until service.
• Garnish soup with bacon crisps, taste for seasoning of salt/pepper.

I had set out to make a potato/leek soup, but I couldn’t find leeks today.

There are several things at play: flavors in the meat, salt, texture, and juiciness. I started once again with what I consider the Thomas Keller master recipe. To summarize, he roasts a chicken that would feed 2-3 people simply. Moderately high heat (450 degrees), little prep other than salt and pepper, but the kicker is at the end: he sauces his chicken.

So, I have to improvise because that’s what I do.

I like his technique for making the skin crisp and brown: high heat. But how do we ensure moisture inside? And flavor? I take one half lemon, cut it into four pieces, and then stuff the cavity of the bird with it. I tie up the chicken, salt and pepper it liberally, and that’s it.

I used a 450-degree oven. One hour. I probably could have gone for 10 minutes less time last night; I’ve got to work out the timing just right with the weight. I tried my best to keep the oven at 450 degrees, using a digital thermometer.

I put the chicken on top of two large, thick slices of onion, in a roasting pan. The onion carmelized and later added flavor to the fat and lemon drippings in the pan when the bird was removed to rest.

For the sauce, I took good-quality butter and melted it; I added to that the drippings, more fresh lemon juice, and a good amount of Dijon-style mustard. I also added a large amount of fresh lemon thyme.

This sauce gets draped over the cut chicken pieces once the chicken is carved. You can use a spoon, or as you eat, dip your piece of chicken into this magic sauce as the evening wears on. It’s most delicious, something exquisitely flavorful, yet all the while pretty simple.

What was left of the carcass last night has been transformed into a stock today, with the addition of shaved carrot slices (using a peeler), pepper, and a handful of chopped onion. I’m turning it into a bacon-potato soup. The bird was around $9.50; it was organic, and for me, worth its weight in gold.

I had an egg first course listed on their Burgundy menu, which was outstanding. Great bread to sop-up the juices, sauce, and egg yolks. Mushrooms, pearl onions, and just yummy earthiness. Delicious.

The entrée was less successful: pork belly. First, the portion of protein was way too much… it was enough protein for a threesome. The plate featured a small salad on the side, which yes, it typical of bistro cuisine. But the salad was more like a garnish: it was improperly dressed with a good vinaigrette.

Their baguette and butter at CdP is excellent.

I enjoyed the meal, but the protein sizes were extreme. The monkfish entrée was likewise large. The desserts weren’t over the top, which you wouldn’t expect at a bistro anyhow… profiteroles, spice cake, sorbets, and a giant chocolate macaron. This is the type of thing you’d never likely see in Paris, but it certainly makes reference to it.

Good food, decent prices for dinner. I would have enjoyed it more if I wasn’t sending back as much on my plate and left feeling overstuffed. Visit their website.

This was a powerful place. First, I got to the museum early on Sunday morning, shortly after it opened, and it seemed “empty” until I found the Julia exhibit on the first floor. Whoa. A crowd of people.

For some reason, I had the emotional baggage of Julie Powell with me, I was a bit overwhelmed with it all. I’ve been watching Julia’s shows on DVD lately with Jacques Pepin, and to see the kitchen up close, in person, was an intense experience.

By the time I made it around to all of the accompanying stuff around the outside of the kitchen (mementos, kitchen tools, and videos with interviews and her shows), I heard some folks talking… people were sharing their stories about coming to love cooking from this woman. It was a bit too much to take…

I stepped back out, into the main hallway, where you can see the exhibit through glass. Here was a bunch of Americans who had a connection to this woman, paying their respects, if you will, on a cold Sunday morning in the nation’s capital city. There’s the constitution to see, there’s artifacts from our founding fathers, but here they are, to see a glimpse into the domestic world of a famous American cook and TV personality. Julia Child.

I wish I could have met the woman. Better yet, as someone tweeted me today after I posted a picture of her Le Cordon Bleu diploma, “Wouldn’t it be nice to have a meal with her?”

I think this woman’s success is directly related to her passion. She wasn’t a particuarly gifted speaker on television (her mistakes and such are great, however, because they reveal the authenticity of the shows). She was a messy cook, at least in front of a camera. Yet, her passion carried out to all these people. I wonder how many visit per year, to see her kitchen?

I, or any of us for that matter, should be so lucky that we make a mark on the world with our passions that folks come to see something we leave behind.

I had a great day.

Julia Child’s kitchen is located at the Smithsonian Museum of American History, on the mall, in Washington, D.C. Yes, even her E. Dehillerin pans.

Their cider went superbly with several dishes I made recently, one a roasted chicken, and another, an apple and sauerkraut pork loin. Beyond wine made from grapes, their cider has an alluring, almost beguiling aroma that keeps your nose in the glass, which is a great thing. The complexity on the nose translates to refreshment on the palate, and just like a good wine, the cider can accent various flavors in your food.

The end of the book is a column about making the best pies. Jeffery is interested in making a better pie for friend and author Marion Cunningham. In the end, he can’t do it, and she shows him how it’s done. He works after their encounter and perfects a recipe.

I made that recipe tonight.

I had mixed results. First, I used one less Apple than Jeffery called for. And, well, I didn’t follow all his directions to a “t,” so he might be able to blame me for it not all coming out perfectly.

The crust, however, the real point behind the article, came out great. It really is a winner crust. Here’s where I need improvement:

a) I used a lattice top, which he does not discuss. This was fine, and might have helped my juicy apple problem. b) I had juicy apples in the pie. Despite using flour, I still had too much juice. Jeffery recommends adding the sugar and salt at the last minute to keep the apples from forming juice. I have a feeling they’d do this anyhow, but next time, I’ll do it a la minute. c) My “topping” burned. He suggested milk with a sprinkle of sugar. I used left over “sugar” water from the apples, mixed with cream. It burned. He suggests starting out at 450 degrees. I think that’s too hot. d) The apples are firm, but some never got “mushy,” despite using a variety where some should have gotten softer. Either cut them all thinner, or else cook it longer.

So, I like his recipe.

a) make sure your apples are dry before mixing them with sugar and vanilla. b) cut them thinner; he suggests 1/16ths, I would go to 32nds, or use a mandolin and do it from top to bottom. c) You might only be able to fit 3 lbs of apples, not 3.5. Maybe 3.25 would be ideal. d) Don’t bake it at 450 to start. Start at 400, then go to 350 for the long-haul after 23-25 minutes. e) Maybe follow his advice on the coating/wash. Egg wash never burned. f) The crust was made with butter and Crisco. I liked this crust a lot. But—I tried to use lard and could not find any at the store. I would have liked to try a lard/butter mixture.

Butternut Squash Soup

This soup starts with the crisping of bacon, which is then reserved to garnish at the end. Onions and garlic with spices sweat it out in bacon fat before adding vegetable broth. To that, roasted butternut squash. The squash roasted at 400 degrees for about 35-40 minutes. The soup was then blended. It reduced somewhat before service, where I topped it with tangy crème fraîche. The flavor profile was bolstered with maple syrup and cider vinegar, added during the onion/garlic stage.

Simple Roast Chicken

I could only find fresh but small birds at the market. These are ideal for 2 people, but for four, we bolstered the chicken with two extra-large leg and thigh pieces.

I based my method on that of chef Thomas Keller, using a high heat, simple roast at 450 degrees for an hour. It probably could have gone for 1:15, all be told. I put the legs in later at around 40 minutes total time. I seasoned the bird with salt, pepper, and I couldn’t help use a little butter (Keller suggests skipping butter and aromatics). I also stuffed the cavity (not fully) with small wedges of lemon.

The chicken was pronounced “the best chicken I have ever had!” by diners. It was moist and flavorful. The trick is preparing a sauce for eating after the roasting process.

I melted a stick of butter, and added whole garlic and fresh poultry herbs (sage, rosemary, and thyme). To this, add Dijon-style mustard, and serve over the chicken pieces. Absolutely simple and most fabulous. We’ll be doing this again soon.

Brussels Sprouts with Mushrooms and Bacon

I’ve made this one before, but each time I add a twist. This time I charred the sprouts in butter under the broiler before adding the mushroom and bacon mixture. Use the most flavorful bacon you can find. I added a boxed mushroom broth to the casserole before roasting with the chicken. After the dish comes out, garnish with fried shallots or onions.

Chocolate Soufflée with Sauce Satsuma Anglaise

Our friends really like my chocolate souflées, made with Valrhona chocolate (I mix both dark and milk chocolate types). To sauce these babies, I made an authentic satsuma-flavored custard sauce using the juice and zest from a Japanese-style eating orange.

Happy new year to everyone, and happy eating!

I’ll start with the star: some prime ribs of beef from Bellmont Butchery here in Richmond. Salted and peppered, and following David Rosengarten’s advice, that’s the way to go: simple.

Now, several years ago I made a recipe from Gourmet that featured brussels sprouts with crunchy shallots and a variety of mushrooms. I updated this dish this year with bacon, and instead of making my own crispy shallots, I used the northern European variety of crispy fried onions that is now available in local stores. They added both the requisite flavor and crunch (add them after the lot comes out of the oven).

Thanksgiving, in my estimation, shouldn’t be too worrisome a day in the kitchen. We’ve had our share of gratins but this year I went super simple, and did a Yukon Gold, roasted garlic mashed potato, but I likely put in a few extra pats of butter to make it all the more regal and Robuchonesque.

Of course, I think ricing is the best method.

The prime ribs came out great; I got the lot up to about 125 degrees then let it rest before splitting the lot into two healthy portions. By having a small one rib version, we both got the outer side, crusted with kosher salt and a melange of peppercorns in green, white, red, and black.

For dessert, we skipped pies and went for an old favorite: rice pudding with pears and caramel. I made it up a few hours after the main meal, as to not stuff ourselves to oblivion.

The dessert was good, but was not up to its former glory. I made a strategic mistake in the creation of the caramel: I added some of the dessert wine I had been poaching golden raisins in to the sauce, which thinned it out too far.

Yet, ultimately, there were no real complaints. I’m thankful for that.

Since Patrick O’Connell has been called the pope of new American cuisine, then I believe John Shields is food’s Saint Peter…

This weekend I had the ultimate pleasure of dining at Town House in Chilhowie, Virginia. This restaurant is owned by the Bishop Family, but all the culinary expertise is from the husband and wife team of John and Karen Urie Shields. Having worked previously for some of the better restaurants in Chicagoland, they now do multi-course menus in this extremely small town off I-81 in southwest Virginia.

I have to preface what I am about to say with a few things, so please indulge me my ability to say them. I know this review will be long to give the meal justice, so please excuse the overall length as well.

I’ve had the great fortune over my lifetime thus far to eat in some incredible restaurants. A good review shouldn’t require a pedigree of the reviewer, but I feel it’s necessary here. I’ve eaten the works of Keller, Boulud, & Robuchon. Cantu & Richard. I stood at the front door of Restaurant Gordon Ramsay. One of the best meals I’ve had was at Chef Andrew Weissman’s Le rêve.

If you don’t read what I’ve written below, that’s fine. But you’ll thank me if you follow my advice. Go to Chilhowie and book a table at Town House. It was by far the best meal I’ve ever had in my entire life. It was brilliant. Unbelievable. A true sensation.

This is a brand of molecular gastronomy which makes the meal less about science and wonder and more about the pursuit of the best possible combinations of flavors and textures. They offer à la carte dining in addition to two tasting menus. This is what we had. The numbers in parenthesis refer to the picture numbers below.

Amuses

• Olive Cookie (1)
• Pork Belly Taco (2)
• Crab Chips (3)

Courses

• Chilled Vegetable Minestrone
• Brûlée of Smoked Salmon Roe (4)
• The Orange from Valencia (5)
• Cardamom Scented Squab & Duck (6)
• Scrambled Egg Mousse (7)
• Chorizo Bouillon (9)
• Cured Hamachi & Bev Eggleston’s Pig Tail (10)
• Thorntree Farms Lamb Cooked in Ash (11)

Intermezzo

• Pepper Potato Bread with EVOO (8)

Desserts

• Covered in Snow… Foggy Ridge’s Pippin Apple (12)
• Purple Mountains (Majesty) (13)

Finale

• Chocolate EVOO Truffles

First, Chilhowie is not much of a town: it’s small and it baffles the mind as to why this place is where it is. But don’t let that stop you from paying a visit. The restaurant now runs its own small B&B, and you can find posh accommodations in nearby Abingdon or Marion, both along I-81.

The dining room is small, but features good lighting that other restaurants often eschew in place of making you guess what’s been set down on the table. All the waitstaff were friendly, but their wine guy seemed to be the most knowledgeable and often the one explaining each of our many courses. The atmosphere is somewhat casual and chic, but simple too.

I added a wine pairing option to my menu, and each of the wines were very well paired to each course. My memory doesn’t serve me well enough to go into detail, but the wines came from all over the world: Spain, Virginia, France, etc. They also offer a premium selection of wines at a $15 markup.

While service was great, I’ve actually had more “professional” service elsewhere. But where at some places fine service raises the stuffiness level, here, things were relaxed and the opposite of stuffy. This is not a place where a suit is required for gents, so I found the whole experience here relaxed and enjoyable. They asked us where we were from, and chef John Shields said hello to us before we left, noting our city of origin. Chilhowie is a small place that likely never gets too fussy. In the same positive way, Town House is very similar.

So what made this the best meal I’ve ever eaten?

We started with amuses that did just that: they amused us both with taste and intellect. Those little mini tacos were so cute, and incredibly tasty. I could have eaten a dozen.

The first course was from the book of Charlie Trotter: a cold “minestrone.” Little “pastas” of pure vegetables stood at attention on the plate, while the waiter poured this magic clear vegetable broth into our bowls. What a refreshing dish. It was simple, but elegant and the intense flavor from each vegetable was carrying its essence. The broth had a sweetness to it and was truly an experience. It was exquisite, deserving the label “magic.”

My favorite course of the evening came next, served in a round bowl that came with a clear disc on top, studded with seeds. The unlikely combination of flavors was a brilliant expression that was at once other-worldly and rare. Chefs Shields combine coconut, mustard, avocado, banana, celery and cilantro with salty salmon eggs beneath a sweet “crust” or “brûlée.” Again, if you tripled it I could have eaten it over and over again, it was spectacular.

The next course was a puzzle. Entitled “The Orange from Valencia,” it was an interesting expression of bitter and sweet. Inside were two plump, flavorful mussels. I can’t begin to name everything else inside, but the shell of the orange had been treated with liquid nitrogen and the leaves were edible hyssop.

My gracious companion’s favorite dish was our next course, served beneath a foamy topping. It combined duck and squab with pear, passion fruit seeds, a funky rendition of broccoli, and stilton-poached wine. This was most delicious. At this point I wondered where things would turn foul. Nothing yet failed to impress or delight us.

The next course was an egg course; birch syrup combined with spices and salty chives to make an incredible combination of flavors. “Yummo!” might shout TV personality Rachael Ray. It was superb. The wine pairing was great too, an aged Madeira.

We next got a repose with the service of two outstanding, warm peppery potato-bread rolls. They serve some delicious EVOO in a little mini-pitcher.

The next dish took us to Spain, and was all about “Chorizo” without the said sausage. Mini pillows of manchego cheese filled our soup bowls along with a large globule of cuddlefish ink. This was a thin “bouillon,” but was absolutely filled with rich flavors. We indeed visited Spain.

Probably my third favorite course was our next: Cured Hamachi and Bev Eggleston’s Pig Tail although our waiter more appropriately called it a still life of the ocean floor. In addition to a pickled oyster, it came with a broth pouring, various seaweeds, and a crunchy/chewy piece of pork. This was imaginative and thoroughly delicious and exciting. Wow. The melding of diversity was spot-on delicious, and this one came with a dual pairing of wine: both sake and a Riesling were served and both played roles at accentuating the myriad flavors.

The next course was my least favorite, but that’s not to say it was bad. If this was the worst, then that’s saying a lot about the high level of everything else. This is chef Shields’ famous lamb course, which for us included the lamb’s heart. I confess I didn’t eat the entirety of the heart, as I’m not the world’s biggest enthusiast of offal. Nevertheless, the textures and flavors here were rich and deep, combining burnt leek, cherries, the leather of fruit, and the wine — a Bandol — was a superb and equal match to all of those flavors. This dish exemplified why the Shields not only know how to perform some funky treatments to food, but are masters at combining different flavors to exquisite new heights.

The dessert courses were no less impressive here. The winner, however, and #2 in my lineup of the best of the evening was the “Covered in Snow” dessert that combined salty strong herbs with peanut, chocolate mousse, and an incredible apple cider augmented with brandy. That beverage comes from “Foggy Ridge,” and our waiter told us the source was only about “an hour away.” The next day we paid them a visit and picked up some of their amazing product which is made from over 30 heirloom apple varieties.

The final dessert was neat: concord grape, black sesame, greek yogurt, and anise seed all came together to make “purple mountains.” A nice accent in this dish was the meyer lemon rind.

Over coffee, I saw a placement of two small chocolate truffles come to the table, and at that point, I was full and didn’t want another bite. “Ah… typical, little chocolate truffles…”

It was only after the waiter told us they were EVOO chocolate truffles that I became intrigued. As you pop one in your mouth, they almost immediately melt, and the marriage of deep cocoa notes, sweetness, and sublime flavor of good extra virgin oil impregnates your mouth with a lasting bemusement. What an incredible way to finish a stellar meal.

I realize molecular gastronomy isn’t everyone’s thing. But I think Chefs Shields do it an extreme justice and make the most satisfying food. Of course, I recommend it. The meal was a 10 on the awesome scale. Visit their website online and enjoy. If you’re more interested in the chef’s approach to their dishes, they do their work justice with a picture blog.

Unfortunately, getting what we wanted took a significant amount of time.

Hamburgers, pizzas, sandwiches, etc., were all fare to be enjoyed eventually when they came. Most diners loved what they received: flavorful, honest food that stood above what the chains serve. The sweet potato fries lacked the superlatives compared to their standard crispy, crunchy fries. My own sandwich was simple, but satisfying nonetheless.

In all, we had a few complaints despite the good food: seating in the front of the restaurant at noon was both exceedingly warm and bright with full-on sunshine. An investment in some blinds or shades would have made dining all the more comfortable. Also, despite the emptying-out of the dining room after 1 PM, the service was a little slow.

Aside from that, we saw why Kitchen 64 remains popular: they serve pretty good food!

You start by making a tart crust (simple, really, just sugar, flour, flavorings, and melted butter). Then, place inside (after baking) your raspberries. Simple, right?

An egg, brown butter, and vanilla filling gets poured in and around the berries, then you set the tart to bake at 375 degrees for 40 minutes. It’s a simple recipe with that complex, nutty, special flavor that brown butter lends anything it kisses.

Slice after cooling, and enjoy.

Ever feel like dim sum cuisine for dinner? These folks have it.

Just about everything we ordered here was tasty and delicious. Plan on ordering a lot of little dishes, as the bite-sized pieces of most things won’t fill you up alone. While we had some confusions with the service here, I blame the foreigners (us) moreso than the servers.

Just don’t expect any fanciful drinks from the bar — unless you can clearly articulate how to make your favorite drinks. I’m only sad I missed the live music by visiting on a Sunday evening.

Menu Decouverte

• L’Amuse Bouche
• Le Caviar
• Le Crabe (softshell en tempura)
• Le Foie Gras aux haricots cocoverjutés
• L’Œuf cocotte et sa crème l’égère de girolles
• La Sole en tronçon
• L’ joue du Bœuf à la bourguignonne
• El Andalous (fraises de saison)
• La perle du Chou (chocolade)

I had many good things to eat when traveling recently to Paris, including a “tasting menu” at one of chef Joël Robuchon’s restaurants, his famous Atelier. Everyone with a reservation is served just minutes after 6:30 PM, and upon entering, are issued to your counter seats. With a party of four, we got a corner, two of us on both sides, which seemed an ideal vantage point for enjoying the meal and viewing not only the workspace but also some of the “audience” Additional seating is available along the wall, but I would not have valued sitting against the wall to eat my meal. I can’t imagine who would.

The menu gave us a choice of entrées. You can see I chose the beef, but others had the choice between foie gras-stuffed quail and lamb (with la fleur de thym). This entrée was perhaps the most successful dish, executed perfectly between dreamy mashed potatoes, the most cute and small mushrooms, and a rich beef cheek amply surrounded by a rich and thick, glistening red ruby, wine sauce. It got straight to the point: let’s enjoy this. Gone were the rustic connotations often associated with this beef stew.

The foie gras course was not my favorite: it was served over a collection of beans and while delicious, it lacked the sophistication that a little sweetness, when paired with foie gras, often has in such a dish. The crab was superb (better than Michel Richard’s version at Citronelle), and my favorite was the caviar dish. A mushroomy drink as the amuse was also outstanding.

Most odd on the dish was the egg course, served in a martini glass, everything foamy, liquidy, and infused with mushroom. There was good parts about it (flavor), but the texture was not my thing.

The fish was bland.

The “Andalous,” a light strawberry dessert, was outstanding. Like the entrée, it was a real winner in simple sophistication. Superb flavor with hints of tomato, basil, and lime tequila.

Not the most delicious, but the most memorable, was the final course: a modern take on the profiterole, covered in a dome of chocolate. Upon being served this dish, hot chocolate sauce was poured over the dome, making it disappear before our eyes. It was magic, and it was quite entertaining. Coffee served with dessert was incredible. Smooth, dark, and ever sweet.

My 2-star meal at Joël Robuchon’s was delicious. I can’t say it was the best meal I’d eaten. Most disappointing was the level of service: while efficient and capable (the waiters match your preferred language), in the end it lacked the warmth I’ve experienced at other places. Nevertheless, I’d recommend this place for its different take on dining by transforming the kitchen into a little scene of theatre. Incidentally, you’ll find Robuchon’s Ateliers in different cities as well.

Food blogger the Amateur Gourmet took issue with a recent column by Christopher Kimball, and it generated a number of comments.

To break-down the issues here, this is what I see:

• Kimball writes about the fall of Gourmet, and talks about his own job as publisher of his own food magazine.
• He seems to think that the passing of Gourmet is a bad thing, and points to the Internet as one of the causes of its demise.
• Roberts takes issue because he seems to be blaming the food blogs for this demise;
• Many commenters join in with horrahs!, saying Kimball’s magazine is boring and bad. Food blogs rule!

I have been a subscriber to Gourmet and to Cook’s Illustrated. In fact, I have all of the latest issues here at home now. I like reading about food. I like food blogs, but I also enjoy good cookbooks, books about food, and even shows about food (like TopChef).

I don’t think Kimball’s article was all that harsh. I think Adam’s post was more harsh, and then for an even more obscene read of everything, the comments took things to the next level.

The truth is, food blogs, food television, and food podcasts are popular sources of information and are tailored to the passions of people who love food. So are the magazines.

We only have so much time in the day to read, watch, and listen to content. That’s what’s the Internet is providing. There’s a great collection growing here in Richmond with food blogs. I don’t have time to read them all religiously. I check them when I have a need to: “I wonder what the trendy new restaurants are this month?”

Kimball’s right to a degree. Folks are replacing their limited time with materials of different quality. But I don’t think a lifetime’s experience necessarily always makes the best read or entertainment. Some food bloggers inspire me, and I’d follow their recipes. Some are just fun to read. Adam Roberts sometimes shares recipes, but I’d never eat them, his cooking looks messy and I don’t trust his palate. But that’s not to say he’s incapable of creating good food.

We thin-slice (to borrow a term from Malcolm Gladwell) people and sources of information. I’m, for one, glad that we have such a variety of sources for information about food today. I’m sorry to see Gourmet pass, but in its void there is still an abundance of content. Over time, the food blogs that don’t inspire and don’t deliver the quality Kimball talks about will pass. Understandably, he may be upset that the economy for publishing has changed quickly. When everyone’s a media producer there’s an over-abundance of content.

These food blogs represent a welcome break from institutional food writing; they are fresher, brighter and more truthful than the kind of writing Kimball mourns—writing that must pass through board rooms, across copy desks, and into editorial meetings before it’s ok-ed and printed.

I’m not sure this comment from Adam Roberts fits (for me) either the writing in Gourmet or the writing in Cook’s Illustrated. I don’t see only one medium being the winner. Roberts says that Kimball’s ship is sinking. I hope not. There’s a lot of to be said for the time it takes to produce work of quality. We live in a world today of quickness, of things that are almost all-okay, almost-accurate, and almost-perfect.

When the entry-cost is free (i.e., food blogs that people start and maintain to share their passion), where’s the incentive for the quality only the dedication of time can bring?

I had some mistakes, however, when making what was otherwise a tasty, but sadly costly, dish.

I went to the market and got the requisite bottle of wine, carrots, celery, onion, garlic, and the beef short ribs. But see, what I did was send my apprentice for the ribs. When we got home, I had 4 little ribs. Not much meat. By the time I found out, I had done all this prep work with leeks, wine reduction, and all for just 4 little short ribs.

Economically, it didn’t make sense to make this rich sauce and braised-meat dish with so little meat. Buyer beware: with all of the vegetables and sauce, I could have made ribs for 4 or 5 people.

You brown the ribs, remove them, then do the vegetables. Then, add reduced wine and a little beef stock to cover. Herbs. 2-2.5 hours in a low oven.

For the potatoes, I took Yukon Golds and married them with a cream augmented with roasted garlic and fresh-shaved parmesan cheese. It came out too loose, mistake #2.

Yet, it all tasted well in the end.

Yes, they do taste best fresh from the oven.

The idea here is to make a cooked-flour dough, then introduce eggs and cheese. Then, we pipe this mixture into small rounds that get baked. Once you have your ingredients assembled, it goes quickly.

I started with grating cheese. The classic recipe might call for Gruyère cheese. In my case, I used a combination of sheep’s milk romano cheese (hard, salty Italian cheese) and Jarlsberg cheese. My dad bought me this cheese, and I don’t like it. So, not to waste it, I used it up by grating it.

The Jarlsberg had more moisture than my other cheese, and isn’t too terribly different from a Gruyère or Emmenthaler. I think the others are better, but they are all mild cheeses with their own subtle flavor profiles. All melt pretty well.

So I started with heating milk, butter, nutmeg, white pepper, and salt until it just began to simmer. To this hot mixture, you stir in flour. It collects itself into a dough in your stockpot, and you keep stirring, cooking the flour through.

Then you add the eggs and flavors… for my recipe, they suggested using a food processor, which made easy work of combining my two cheeses and the eggs into a moist, glossy dough. I used a silpat-lined cookie sheet to hold the piped gougeres. With a different flavor profile, your dough could have become eclair dough, or dough used for cream puffs. If you’ve eaten these things, you probably can anticipate what the dough is like… airy, puffy, and empty! The steam makes a nice big pocket of air inside. When warm, the result is a nice light bite that’s full of flavor.

Flavor in my case was the special treat. You could taste the cheese component, and it was forward in my puffs. But the selling point was the hot lingering flavor left when the puff had been swallowed, coming from the white pepper. This spicy finish was really nice. It’s no wonder that many folks recommend chasing cheese puffs with a sparkling wine.

Notes

I’ve been really interested in French food since planning our trip to Paris later this year.

I’ve been inspired by reading the excellent food blog centered around cooking out of the French Laundry Cookbook, Carol Cooks Keller—especially with posts like this one on floating islands. Wow—absolutely inspirational. Cheese puffs really don’t compare to that dessert, now do they? But my muse is simply less fussy.

I got my cheese puff recipe from Ina Garten who is not about fussy cooking. Her mantra seems to be centered around cooking good food easily. It might mean a new technique to save time, or a few steps taken away that make a process simpler.

At the same time, my meal tonight went beyond cheese puffs and included a disaster (waffle potato slices) and a delicious Steak Diane, following Julia Child’s example. Anyone can open a cookbook and make a recipe, which might turn out great. But when you feel a personal connection to the book, it’s creator, and the spirit behind the dish, the equation changes. You take some of their passion and develop your own emotional energy behind the dish. I don’t know why I don’t feel more like this when I’ve tried to make something by Rachel Ray or Tyler Florence.

(Incidentally, the potato mistake was Tyler’s fault. Okay, mine, but I followed his directions, I thought…)

I also made Julia & Jacques’ mushrooms with a creamy base. Steak “Diane” is a quick-sauté of a pounded steak, with a simple Dijon-mustardy sauce. It was simple yet also complex enough to evoke smiles. A French Pinot noir went well with the whole meal, cutting through the richness of the cream, accentuating the mustardy backdrop, and making everything go down well (secret: I chilled the wine for an hour beforehand in a 50-degree environment).

Someone asked me once why I review restaurants, and someone answered the question for me: he likes to eat out and share his experience. Another time, someone asked me why I write up things about what I’ve made at home, in my kitchen. I’m not alone, of course, but I am sure everyone’s reason is different.

I think cooking is one of just several very creative things I can do in my life to express myself.

Growing up, I was a passionate musician, gravitating to the piano everyday after school to practice. Not what I was supposed to be studying, but playing my own compositions.

Today, that special talent has left me. I don’t take the time to go beyond playing to find the creative zone in my piano playing. I know it’s there, but I often don’t have the patience to visit that place where my own thoughts and ideas take over.

In cooking, they can. Creating my own recipes and flavors is exciting and fun. But teaching yourself new techniques through a book or a DVD or a TV show can also be fun, albeit less creative. Making those cheese puffs was a real gas. I might have seen pâte-a-choux dough made many times on TV, but when I read the book, understood the story, and made them for myself with good results, it was really uplifting.

But once you’ve taught yourself how to make a classic gougere, or a Julia Child steak Diane, then you can go off into your own direction. Sometimes I do this without the experience, but I can say, there’s something very satisfying about cooking with Julia as your muse.

A few weeks ago someone very special in my life took me to a cooking lesson. I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time, and it was my birthday present. We learned how to make things with heirloom tomatoes, and I really enjoyed the class. I love heirloom tomatoes. I like the idea of cooking together. I hope we can do more of it, going forward.

But the experience also taught me (maybe it reminded me) that I really enjoy teaching others how to cook. I started off several years ago on this site cooking with a video camera. My friend offered her kitchen where we filmed many of those “shows.” I think looking forward I should look for opportunities to take this passion to others who need more than the inspiration of a dead cookbook author and TV personality, or a TV Food Network star to show them how to eat well. I go forward in life following one creative passion after another, and I think it would be a great idea.

I chose to dine here during my recent trip in part because its main chef, Jennifer Carroll, is a contestant on this season’s show, Top Chef. It was confirmed to us that she was “cooking in the kitchen” while we were there.

We both chose three course menus.

For me:

• Pork and Beans (pork belly),
• White bass in a cream sauce
• Fig Dessert

For my adventurous companion:

• Octopus with Eggplant,
• Bouillabaisse,
• Beignets with Sauce

My appetizer was delicious: the pork simply melted under the pressure of my knife and the broth was delicious. The white fish was cooked to perfection, in a creamy light sauce that was fresh. I only wished it had more vegetables than the very special chantarelle mushrooms.

The dessert was the only disappointment. The figs lacked presence and flavor on the plate. The chocolate disk below was far more important (in size and flavor).

The octopus was cooked well, parts of it charred from its time on the grill. Both this and the crispy eggplant had a nice lemon flavor.

The bouillabaisse came with all sorts of seafood, including clams, mussels, and head-on shrimp. It’s saffron broth was just right.

The star of the evening was the waitress-described “sensation”: fried cinnamon sugar beignets with a salted caramel/chocolate sauce. These little guys melted in your mouth, and the sweet/chocolate/salt flavored sauce was scrumptious.

I am not sure how I felt about dining so close to the lobby, but it was a magical place with pink lights, a very high ceiling, and pulsing electronica. It didn’t feel like a Ritz, but someplace magical yet modern.

We wish the best to Chef Carroll in her campaign on Top Chef.

First, the place reminded me exactly of Can Can here in Richmond. I guess both places took the same inspiration. The only difference was the absence of the paper as “table cloths” here, but the food was similarly delicious.

For lunch we almost all ordered their Croque Madame sandwich, which was good, but not outstanding. I am not sure this sandwich can be outstanding, but all the richness was there. It’s served with a very light greens-only salad. Nothing fussy.

The appetizers were stronger flavor contenders, and their bread was excellent.

The tomato tarte is something I could make at home: puff pastry dough, dried tomatoes, fresh basil, and balsamic vinegar. Simple, but quite delicious. I recommend something bubbly to play off the richness of the butter.

Oddly enough, in late summer they were still serving a “spring mushroom” soup, but this one was thick and very mushroomy. Some complained about the saltiness, but I found it to be just right.

I foolishly skipped dessert in anticipation of my dinner reservation. The “brunch” fare here on a Saturday afternoon (a very beautiful one) was limited, but you’d be sure to find many delicious options. I liked the vibe, the open-air in the restaurant, and it appeared very popular.

The first course was inspired by a recent cooking class I took centered on the use of in-season, heirloom tomatoes. I adopted a recipe that was used, first published in Bon Appetit magazine, with tomatoes and shrimp. I served it with a tomato water cocktail (tomato water and cold vodka).

• Baby spinach, washed and spun dry
• minced shallot
• large shrimp
• garlic (lots)
• fresh herbs (thyme)
• variety of heirloom tomatoes
• salt, pepper
• EVOO
• dijon mustard mayonnaise
• balsamic vinegar

First, chop up your tomatoes and let them drain, salted, in a colander. This “firms” them up. Later, I mix the tomatoes with the vinegar, shallot, and freshly cracked pepper.

The shrimp get marinated in garlic, EVOO, herbs, and some of (now) salty tomato water.

Arrange a bed of spinach, top with tomato mixture, cooked shrimp (flash sauté with the marinade), a “line” of Dijonnaise, and top with EVOO. It was fresh, delicious, and satisfying.

The beef dish was made according to the recipe, and I was dissatisfied to find some beef cuts were dry, others very moist. I used a 275 degree oven (recipes call for 300-325), but things still dried out. I think maybe 250 for another hour (perhaps the last hour, stirring, and leaving the top partially off to reduce the sauce) would be the way to go. More experimenting is called for.

I served everything over some very (good and) creamy mashed potatoes, infused with roasted garlic.

The mushrooms and pearl onions (use frozen) were made separately, and they tasted divine(ly).

Our dessert was the best part, to some diners, but I neglected to photograph it. It is a pity.

Using Patrick O’Connell’s recipe for white chocolate mousse, I made two mousses: white and dark chocolate. This is not an easy recipe; his mousse is meringue-based. You beat eggwhites (I used pasteurized whites), and then drizzle-in a sugar syrup. I think I needed more syrup (it didn’t seem to incorporate as well). I used this base mixture, along with whipped cream, to augment my two batches (5 oz. each) of melted chocolate. Since the syrup and sweetened chocolate already has a lot of sugar, it helps to use a tangy sauce.

I made a sauce out of reduced mangostine and passion fruit juice. After reducing the juice, stir-in some fresh, cold pats of butter before refrigerating it. The sauce became a base on the plate. I used canelle-techniques for the dark mousse and a piping bag for the white.

We ate well.

I made a filling with chorizo, peppers and onions. Very simple. But then you make a type of closed pizza pie: two crusts. The flavors were simple, but somehow really came across as Spanish. It was tasty.

I’m guessing you could reproduce this concept of cooking, empenando with just about any type of filling, as long as it wasn’t too saucy. He recommends making steam holes. The top gets coated in EVOO and helped the crust acquire the dark color.

I made Julia’s lemon roast chicken. For the most part it worked, and was tasty.

She said to de-fat the pan drippings, and I tried. But darn it, it’s not fun nor easy to do when you have onions and carrots in the pan. So, I decided to put my knowledge to work: add flour, and it will thicken things up. Her pan sauce combines wine, chicken stock, and the flavorful bits, fat removed. I still had some fat, but the sauce was ultimately too greasy. It also lacked lemon flavor. While sage was the herb used, I think adding more lemon at the very end would have been smart.

As you can see, I also made their potato gratin. I did it in individual servings using ramekins, but felt the vertical shape didn’t adequately hold enough of the flavored milk. I augmented my middle layer of both Yukons and russet rounds (cut very thin) with a little truffle oil. I think real truffle slices would have made this properly deluxe.

For the next night’s dinner, I made their simple (and simply delicious) salad of avocado, red onion, and tomato.

This was absolutely delicious, using good-quality red wine vinegar and really ripe, perfect Haas avocado. I aim to make more from their book. I took a classic and put it to work from the dessert section of the book: Crème Anglaise sauce with fresh berries.