goes around ... comes around

I've always been intrigued by how food ideas and trends work their way through menus and restaurants. Often the phenomenon is at its most acute in a place like San Francisco, which is a serious foodie town but is also, in many ways, still a fairly small town. I recall one visit several years ago when every place we went had a beet salad with goat cheese (yes, that one seems to have some staying power). On our last visit a couple years ago, it was in-house charcuterie.

It's not all that uncommon to see basically the same dish done at different restaurants. Sometimes - often - that can be the result of spontaneous independent creation, but it's also often the result of conscious or unconscious influence. Because there is little intellectual property protection for a recipe or a plating presentation, there's little a chef could do about it even if they wanted to, though culinary plagiarism has been a topic of robust discussion. You can call it, respectfully, "homage" or "inspiration," or pejoratively, "copying" or "plagiarizing," and the distinctions are sometimes difficult to assess. The perception (and, I suppose the reality) can depend on a lot of things: how original was the dish in the first place? how willing is the chef to acknowledge the influence of others? what's the relationship, if any, between the two chefs?

But that's not really my point here, rather I just find it interesting to watch how food trends work their way through the restaurant biz. This particular reverie was prompted by a Ruth Reichl twitter about a dinner at Animal, a much-talked-up new Los Angeles restaurant. Animal, opened less than a year ago, is the product of Jon Shook and Vinny Dotolo, who were featured in a short-running Food Network show called "2 Dudes Catering." Little did I know, until looking at the Animal website, that Shook and Dotolo had South Florida roots, having gone to culinary school in Fort Lauderdale and gotten their start at The Strand restaurant with Michelle Bernstein as head chef.

But the South Florida connection that I saw was their menu - in particular, a couple of the dishes mentioned by Reichl. Pork belly with kim chee and peanuts? Fried hominy with lime? Sound familiar to any of you Miami folks?

For those not in the know, these just happen to be a couple of the mainstay items at Michael's Genuine Food & Drink. Now, it's not like Michael Schwartz would ever claim to be the first person to have combined these ingredients. Nor, for that matter, is he in any position to complain about someone riffing on the same tune that he's been playing. After all, another of the mainstays on his menu, the wood-oven roasted whole chicken (served with plumped raisins, toasted pine nuts and baby arugula) is, as I noted some time ago, pretty much the same recipe that Zuni Cafe in S.F. is famous for.^[*] More recently, I had a porchetta de testa that appeared to be made using the same recipe that Chris Cosentino of Incanto had done in a video for Gourmet.

So I doubt that Chef Schwartz would ever make a stink about it. And let me be clear, I'm not accusing anyone of "copying" anyone else. But it is curious how a restaurant on one coast should be getting kudos for dishes that sound mighty similar to the dishes that were earning another restaurant on the other coast kudos a year earlier, no? Could just be that everyone loves them some pork belly and kim chee, and some crispy hominy with lime. I know I do.

^[*] I had the good fortune of trying the MGF&D whole roasted chicken within a month of a trip to S.F. and trying the famous Zuni Cafe chicken. My verdict - the MGF&D version was even better than the original.

My Dinner With Toby?

Top Chef is something of a guilty pleasure for me. I normally can't stand the reality show format, the product placements are painful, and the competition structure is somewhat contrived and goofy, but at least there are some real chefs and some real cooking going on. This past season was a bit of a downer, as the caliber of the contestants seemed to have dipped, and the couple of folks who seemed to me to show any flair for creativity (Jeff McInnis, Jamie Lauren in my book, but to each his own, of course) struggled to get any traction, but I continued to watch anyway.

I didn't exactly find the season to be enhanced by the presence of the new judge, Toby Young, an English prat whose greatest claim to fame is his ability to annoy other people and somehow get marginally famous for doing so. (Don't take my word for it; he's published a book called "How to Lose Friends and Alienate People: A Memoir"). I have no issue with tough criticism, but he didn't even really offer that. Rather, I just found Young's comments to be stilted, forced, unfunny, and often just plain ignorant. I think you could hear the groans across the country when he attempted to make an "I've found the weapons of mass destruction" joke about five years after that could have remotely been thought of as topical. And it was a real thrill to have an Englishman pontificate on what makes for "authentic" New Orleans or Miami food.^[1]

The kicker for me was when, in response to critics, he presumed that it was his mastery of basic grammar, rather than his contrived (lack of) wit, that us knuckle-dragging Americans found so off-putting:

But one of the penalties of being a well-educated Brit in America is that people are constantly accusing you of having memorised lines for the simple reason that you talk in complete sentences and — completely unheard of, this — you don’t make any grammatical mistakes.

Yeah, that must be it.

When I saw on Feedbag that (1) Toby Young was making another appearance as a judge on Top Chef; (2) he was amused by the hue and cry for someone, anyone other than him to serve in that capacity (some of the suggestions included Sirhan Sirhan, Beetlejuice, and an inanimate carbon rod); and (3) he was offering up a dinner in Vegas in his company for an eBay charity auction, well I couldn't resist sharing my two pence. OK, actually what I said was:

Don’t take too much satisfaction from being told that you’re funny by a guy who was making “I’ve found the weapons of mass destruction” jokes in 2008. Question about that eBay auction: do I get to order for TY? (”I’ll have the porterhouse, and my companion here will be having the shit sandwich.”)

Well, someone claiming to be Toby Young responded, "If yours is the winning bid, Frodnesor, I’ll eat what you tell me to eat, no questions asked. That’s a promise." And while it'd be perfectly easy for someone to pretend to be TY - why would anyone ever want to do that? So, on a lark, I put in a bid for the charity auction for a dinner with Toby Young at Tom Colicchio's Craftsteak in Las Vegas.

And - not that I should be all that surprised that the bidding is not exactly going like hotcakes - I'm currently the high bidder, with a whopping bid of $100.01. [I've since been outbid, and am contemplating how much this opportunity is potentially worth]. So here's my question. Assuming nobody else is willing to pay more than $100.01 to spend a weekend in Vegas and have a meal at Craftsteak if it means having to endure Toby Young's company for said meal, what choice things would have you have me ask (or tell) Mr. Young? Any thoughts you'd like to share?^[2]

^[1] Particularly one whose depth of understanding of New Orleans cuisine is evidenced by this quote from a review of a London restaurant called "Big Easy BBQ and Crabshack":

"The Big Easy is modelled on the informal seafood restaurants of America's Gulf Coast, with plain, utilitarian furniture, chequered tablecloths and plastic bibs for those who want to avoid getting crabmeat on their Hawaiian shirts. It's so laid back, it could almost be one of those bars in the French Quarter of New Orleans where the drinkers were undisturbed by Hurricane Katrina. My fellow diners all looked as though they'd consumed several jugs of frozen margaritas before sitting down to tackle one of the restaurant's gigantic meals."

^[2] I'm a little concerned with some of the fine print in the eBay auction, specifically this piece:

Winner and guest understand they will need to behave in a reasonable and appropriate manner at all times during the experience. Violations will invalidate the experience for all participants and the winner and guest will be asked to leave the dinner. Causes for termination include but are not limited to: profanity, harassment, not following instructions of assigned escort or security at event, intoxication, or other codes of conduct which are considered unreasonable.

But I'm assuming that "reasonable," "appropriate," "profanity," and "harassment" will be narrowly construed. Surely someone with Mr. Young's resume has developed a somewhat thick skin by this time, no?

Indian Palate - Coral Gables

[Sorry, this place has closed]

It's generally been a struggle to find good Indian food in Miami. Renaisa, off Biscayne Boulevard and 78th Street, was my go-to place for a while (for take-out - I couldn't bear to sit in the dingy space, which has now changed hands and been made much nicer as Anise Taverna, a Greek/Med restaurant from the folks who used to run Ouzo's), but then they moved north to Heelsha around 163rd St. and I haven't gotten up that way. I've had a couple better-than-decent meals at Mint Leaf in Coral Gables, but it's rather pricy. So when a new entry in the market made its appearance, I was excited to try Indian Palate, and made my way over this week for lunch.

While walking my way to the restaurant's location at the corner of Salzedo Street and Alcazar Avenue, it gradually dawned on me what used to be there - it's the old Le Festival space! But this will not be one of my interminable reminiscences about restaurants-gone-by, I promise. It's still got ivy covering the walls outside, but the interior has been redone with Indian paintings and decorations. Lunch is done buffet-style, with a few serving tables set up in one room opposite the dining room (which appears to only have a portion of the full space open for lunch).

The buffet offered about 3-4 vegetable dishes , about 5 various meat dishes, basmati rice, a couple breads (the baskets of which were not refreshed nearly often enough), as well as another table set up as a chaat bar and yet another laid out with simple salad stuff and about a half-dozen chutneys and pickles.

My favorite thing was the chaat bar. Chaats are Indian street food, various combinations of miscellaneous crispy bits, sauces and spices. Here, they offered little puffed rice balls, crispy shredded wheat, and big round wheat puffs,along with several various sauces for topping them, including creamy yogurt, another yogurt-based sauce spiked with mint, a tart tamarind sauce, and a moderately spicy tomato chutney, along with diced fresh tomato and mint. The effect of the combination, which you can doctor as you see fit, is much like a spicy, savory, crunchy breakfast cereal, and oddly compelling.

The buffet fare was decent but not exceptional. The vegetables included a saag paneer (creamy spinach with cubes of mild cheese), a mild mixed vegetable curry, and a potato dish; the meats included a chicken tikka masala, a stewed lamb dish (rogan josh?), another dish with ground lamb or beef, and mussels in a peanut sauce. It was all OK, but there was nothing that really stood out. It was as if the spice had been turned down on everything, which I think is a mistake. Though I understand that not everyone likes spicy food, there's a difference between spicy and highly spiced. Indian food need not (should not) always be spicy, but if it's not highly spiced, then what's the point? To me that's the heart of Indian cooking.

I have read that the Indian Palate chef came over from Vix at the Hotel Victor on South Beach, which makes a lot of sense. I only ate there once, but what made the most memorable impression - other than the astronomical prices - was a bread plate that featured several delicious Indian breads, and some very savory dips including a raita and some chutneys. Now, Indian Palate offers a fuller panoply of choices, and at a much more affordable cost - our lunch buffet was $13, a bargain all things considered. The dinner menu seems a bit more convoluted, with a bunch of different combination plates, but I like the idea, since it gives an opportunity to try a broader variety of dishes. Now if they could just turn up the spice dial some so you can better distinguish one from another.

Indian Palate
2120 Salzedo St.
Coral Gables, FL 33134
786.360.3664

Bulldog BBQ Redux - The Pros Check In

I gave my thoughts on Bulldog BBQ a couple months ago. Now, on the same day, the pros from Miami Herald and New Times check in. You'd think everyone had the same crib sheet.

• look - sleek and modern
• good - turkey chili, fried oyster app, burnt end beans
• bland - curiously under-flavored meats, cornbread and slaw
• not quite right - smoky, sour mac & cheese
• portions - large
• beers - lousy selection
• "hot chocolate puddin' cake" - molten chocolate cake in blue-collar drag
• bbq purists - don't bother
• verdict - still a decent meal, even if it ain't real 'cue.
  

What's That Growing in the Fridge?

I think the area of fermentation is an under-explored genre of food manipulation. At our recent visit to Akelaŕe, a dish described as "milk and grape, cheese and wine in parallel evolution" promised to explore the subject, but while the concept was there, I thought the execution was somewhat lacking.

I've always generally understood how the fermentation process works with wine, with yeast acting to convert the sugars in the grape juice into alcohol. I understood it less with regard to fermented vegetables (i.e., kim chee) and meats (i.e., sausages) until doing a little research. My naive understanding now is that it is in most respects essentially the same process, but instead of sugar converting to alcohol, it is the conversion of carbohydrates into lactic acid by means of beneficial bacteria. It is this lactic acid which both acts to preserve the foods and helps eliminate bad bacteria.

In any event, here's an interesting little interview with Sandor Katz, fermentation maven, on the topic of home fermentation, which in turn led me to his website, Wild Fermentation. I suspect I've had some unintentional home fermentation projects going on at one time or another - this suggests a more purposeful approach.

Stop Me If You've Heard This One Before

Big name N.Y. restaurateur opens fancy restaurant in great big new Miami hotel. First reported in MenuPages, now with more detail - and a preview menu (sorry - link appears to be screwed up) - from UrbanDaddy, Eos in the Viceroy Hotel, a product of restaurateur Donatella Arpaia with a menu from chef Michael Psilakis, will be doing a soft opening starting next Tuesday.

At least it's not a steakhouse.

Eos
485 Brickell Avenue
Miami, FL 33131
305.503.4400

Everything Old is New Again

When we were in Spain, I noted on more than one occasion how traditional dishes were the springboard for creative contemporary dishes - a new-age variant of a Gilda pintxo at Akelaŕe, an apertivo of puding de kabrarroka at Arzak. This is hardly a new idea. There's a long line of chefs who play with variations on classics. Here is just one local example from here in Miami - oeufs à la gelée, inspired by Fernand Point's Ma Gastronomie. The use of classic combinations in conjunction with contemporary techniques, or alternatively, classic presentations with untraditional ingredients, is often an effective way to mediate the tension between neophilia and neophobia* (or, to skip the fancy lingo, "I want something new" vs. "I want something familiar") inherent in any dining experience.

Indeed, there seems to be plenty of looking backwards these days, with Zagat sponsoring a series of "Vintage Dinners" - including this magnificent offering from Thomas Keller and Jonathan Benno of Per Se from a few months ago (salmon coulibiac; lobster thermidor; veal a la maintenon; grand kugelhof - we're going to party like it's 1899!).

But in a recent post on the new Atlantic Food Channel, Grant Achatz of Alinea (as usual) takes it to another level. In "New Fusion: Making Old Modern," instead of using old recipes as a jumping-off point for the use of new techniques, he talks instead about the incorporation of classic recipes, lock stock and barrel, into contemporary menus, for purposes of contrast and comparison:

Can the juxtaposition of modern and classic preparations within the same menu elevate each by giving a clearer perspective of evolution? Or does it show how little cooking has really changed? Can it fulfill different emotional aspects through the contrasts? Will people even notice? Is it a moment of gastronomic time travel?

Most of these questions probably can't be answered until it's experienced, but they are all good questions to be asking. I've generally always been of the belief that there's a lot less that separates the "modern" and the "classic" than many people seem to think, but perhaps that assumption is off the mark. Are we ready for a Quantum Leap dining experience? And how long until Michael Mina comes up with a "time travel trio"?

*Borrowing a concept from Michael Pollan's great book, "The Omnivore's Dilemma", and redeploying it in a slightly different context.