Cobaya Experiment #6 - CobayaSteak at Bourbon Steak

Over the past few years, Miami has been the site of much culinary colonization. Several chefs with national reputations have set up outposts here; and as often as not, those outposts take the form of a steakhouse. Michael Mina's Bourbon Steak, Alfred Portale's Gotham Steak, Laurent Tourondel's BLT Steak ... It's a formula designed to capitalize on the name while minimizing the execution risk as they put others in charge of carrying the brand's flag in the far-flung colonies: given the inherently limited nature of a steakhouse menu, diners will expect quality, but not necessarily the same creativity or flourishes by which these big-name chefs garnered their reputation in the first place.

That's not to sell the steakhouses short. I've had some great meals at these places, and they have the capacity to serve as a springboard for younger kitchen talent (witness the nomination of Chef Sam Gorenstein of BLT Steak as a semifinalist for a James Beard Rising Star award this year). But the self-limiting format only gives so much wiggle room for the local chefs to show that they can do something other than grill a steak and cook potatoes.

That's in part what Cobaya is for: to give chefs a chance to showcase, or experiment with, things they may not be able to do in their "native habitat." When we met with Bourbon Steak's chef Gabriel Fenton and general manager John Riccardo, we told them that this was a no-holds-barred opportunity to cook whatever they wanted to make, and if there wasn't a single piece of steak on the menu, that was perfectly fine. And Chef Fenton - who spent several years as executive sous chef at Michael Mina's flagship restaurant in San Francisco - put together a beautiful meal in which a cow made only the briefest cameo appearance. We hardly noticed its absence.

The menu (you can see all my pictures from the dinner in this flickr set):

Michael Mina Cuvée Welcome & Gougeres

Michael's Classic American Caviar Parfait

House Smoked King Salmon, Dill Oil

Robert Weil Riesling Tradition, Rheingau, Germany 2008

Hawaiian Big Eye Sashimi

Aji Amarillo Chile, Cilantro, Lime, Chorizo

La Cana Albariño, Rias Baixas, Spain 2008

Hudson Valley Foie Gras Terrine

Strawberry, Grains of Paradise, Pistachio, Blue Basil

Royal Tokaji '5 Puttonyos,' Hungary, 2003

Line Caught Wild Alaskan Halibut

Baby Purple Artichokes, Meyer Lemon, Taggiasca Olive

Tablas Creek Esprit de Beaucastel, Paso Robles 2007

Columbia River Sturgeon

Short Rib Ravioli, Spring Garlic

Jean Louis Chave Cotes du Rhone, Mon Coeur, Rhone Valley, France 2006

Local Peach Sorbet

Ginger Gelée, Lemon Balm

Milk Chocolate Panna Cotta

Candied Kumquats, Almond Biscotti

Jorge Ordoñez & Co. Moscatel Seleccion Especial, Malaga, Spain 2006

(continued ...)

South Florida - Celebrity Chef Breeding Ground?

Earlier today, I learned that Chef Andrea Curto-Randazzo of Talula will be a contestant on the next season of Top Chef, which starts airing June 16. But she's not the only South Floridian with TV celebrity chef aspirations.

Also in the mix? Aria Kagan, who has been selected as a finalist in Food Network's "The Next Food Network Star." Who is Aria Kagan? When I got a blurb from a Food Network publicist, it didn't ring any bells (sadly, I'm terrible with names). But when I went to the website to check the biography, I had one of those "Hey! I know her!" moments; because Aria (who used to teach at Le Cordon Bleu in Miami and now runs a catering business) also used to work at Timo in Sunny Isles.

So now there's two local talents to root for on your TV this summer. Next Food Network Star begins airing on June 6 at 9pm.

Top Chef Andrea Curto-Randazzo!

For years, Andrea Curto-Randazzo has been one of my favorite local chefs. We've long been fixtures at the kitchen bar seats at Talula, the restaurant that she and husband Frank Randazzo opened in 2003, and I've often told anyone who will listen that I think they put out the best food to be found on South Beach. Chef Curto-Randazzo also helped kick off our Cobaya underground dinners with our first event, one that many of us still think was the best dinner we've done.

And, yes, I also happen to be a Top Chef fan as well.

So I am thrilled - just thrilled - to see that she is going to be a contestant on next season's Top Chef, and that the rest of the country will get a chance to see what she's capable of doing.

I will be watching and rooting for Andrea like a gibbering maniac. GO ANDREA!

Hot Kitchens, Hot Tempers

I was amused to read this story in the New York Times Diner's Journal, of a customer who was thrown out of the eponymous Marc Forgione restaurant by the chef for going into the kitchen and complaining about the chef's verbal abuse of his staff. The short version: dining party is seated; chef loudly and repeatedly berates waiter in kitchen; discomfited diner goes into kitchen to complain; chef takes umbrage at diner's uninvited entrance into kitchen; chef asks customer to leave restaurant. It's not so much that the story was in itself so amusing, but rather that something very similar happened to me several years ago.

We were having a breakfast at a restaurant that I'd prefer not to name - it's somewhat embarassing. OK, it was Jerry's Deli, and it was a long time ago, and it hadn't quite sunk to the depths of mediocrity that it now happily occupies. Frod Jr. and Little Miss F were with us, and were much younger - maybe 6 and 3, respectively. The restaurant was not terribly busy, but the food service was nonetheless unusually slow. Meanwhile, as we sat, we couldn't help but notice that a stream of pretty much uninterrupted yelling and cursing was coming out of the kitchen. Jerry's is a big, cavernous place, located in what was originally a cafeteria and which had housed a number of nightclubs before its current incarnation. And though we were seated a good twenty yards away from the entrance to the kitchen, there was absolutely no mistaking the noises that were coming out of there.

Now, I happen to be a fan of colorful and creative cursing. But this was not particularly creative, it was not getting the food out any faster, and it was providing an education to our children that we did not particularly desire at this particular point in their upbringing (needless to say, they had never heard me or Mrs. F say any such things - the fact that a 2-year old Frod Jr. used to shout "Dammit!" from the back seat of the car when we got stuck at a stoplight was purely spontaneous behavior). And so I asked our waitress if she could perhaps ask the chef to stifle the profanities a bit.^[*]

The result was not unexpected. Either the chef lit into our poor server the same as he had been doing to his kitchen staff, or she was too terrified to even say anything, but the stream of high-decibel profanity continued, unabated. And we still didn't have any food. So after several more minutes, I went back into the kitchen, spotted the chef who was doing all the screaming, and said:

"Listen, everyone in the entire restaurant can hear you. And it really doesn't make a difference to me, but I've got young kids here, and my 6-year old son just asked me when his fucking french toast is going to be ready. Do you think you could tone it down?"

It got quiet after that. We weren't asked to leave. And Frod Jr. got his fucking french toast.

My take on the kerfuffle described in Diner's Journal? The diner was right to complain but did so for the wrong reason. Generally speaking, it's none of your business how a chef deals with his/her staff. However, if it's intruding on your dining experience, then it becomes your business. It's not your place as a diner to tell a chef how to run his team, but it's absolutely your right to complain if the commotion in the kitchen is distracting you from your meal. On the other hand, if Chef Forgione is serious about the "sanctity of the kitchen," then he better find a way to make sure that whatever happens in the kitchen doesn't make its way into the dining room.

Updated to add: Here's a little further detail from Marc Forgione, reported in GrubStreet.

^[*]Asking someone else on the staff to intervene in the kitchen is a step the Diner's Journal author skipped, and one that might have avoided the breach of the kitchen ramparts which so offended Chef Forgione's sensibilities.