Sunday, January 20, 2013

Cooking Creations AND Dining by Design: Braising at Barcelona


Chef Scott Quis braises at Barcelona
I admit it: I'm a bit of a control freak.  I appreciate a level of routine and predictability.  If you go out to eat with me, you know that I pick the wine at dinner and the waiter presents it to me.  It's just one of things that falls under my jurisdiction.

As a result of this particular personality trait, I have lived in fear of braising.  Something about setting a dish aside to slow cook makes me uncomfortable, especially if it involves an expensive protein.  I'd rather it stayed underneath my watchful eye.  Fortunately, a cooking class at Barcelona Stamford helped me face my fear head on.

On Saturday January 19, Chef Scott Quis led a cooking class entitled "braising basics" that I enthusiastically signed up for as soon as I saw the announcement.  Quis has a remarkable pedigree.  He started in the kitchen at just fourteen years old and went on to study at the Culinary Institute of America.  He has another interesting claim to fame; he was Daniel Boulud's 1st intern.  Hard work and diligence helped him achieve the title of sous chef by twenty-two.  "It was fun, but hard when a lot of the crew was older," he reflected.  He credits visits to foreign countries with much of his growth as a chef.  "Travelling is most important," he told us.  He worked in Paris while with Boulud and made his way to Italy and Spain as well.

2006 Quieto from Argentina
The class began at 2:00 p.m., which provided for a more intimate, relaxed experience.  Since the restaurant was in between meals, participants got to congregate around the bar, speak to the servers and chef, and enter the kitchen freely.  As guests matriculated in, a personable server offered us drinks.  My friend and I chose a glass of 2006 Quieto, a red wine from Argentina.  The blend consists of Cabernet Franc, Malbec, and Cabernet Sauvignon.  While I am a huge Malbec fan, I am reluctant to order it in restaurants.  The wine can be very tannic and aggressive, and I have found that most restaurants serve Malbecs of this persuasion.  They tend to be young, commercial, and therefore astringent.  Barcelona defied all that.  The slight age conserved the pepper notes yet smoothed out some of the tannin.  The Cabernet Franc added a light zing to the otherwise robust varietal.  I would certainly order it again and consider it one of Barcelona's best reds by the glass.

Drinks in hand, Chef Scott led us into the kitchen.  I felt a bit like I was going backstage at a concert.  As a cook and longtime admirer of the cuisine at Barcelona, I relished in the idea of being privy to the behind the scenes magic.  I would finally get to see what the kitchen looked like, observe how they worked, and witness the conception of delicious plates.

Scott Quis chose two proteins for braising that afternoon: pork and lamb shank.  We squeezed into the kitchen and gathered around him.  He began by showing us a pig that had started out whole and had been broken down into four large parts, including the head.  The pigs come to Barcelona from Dartagnan in Vermont.  In high school, I spent the lab period devoted to pig dissection hiding out in the library, but somewhere throughout my cooking adventures I transitioned into someone who found the scene in front of me totally cool.

Lamb shanks browning
We then moved around the other side of the counter to the oven where he began the braising demonstration itself with the lamb.  For a revered, bustling restaurant, I was surprised by the relatively small kitchen.  It proved deceivingly narrow and the dancing flames from the stove made it toasty.  I wondered at how efficiently Scott and his crew floated around the limited space (while avoiding third degree burns)

The very first step in braising is to ensure the meat is dry.  Scott had a very large round pan set up on the gas stove and splashed enough oil in it to coat the bottom.  He then added the lamb shank and let them simmer in the oil until browned.  "You need to get it this color, at least," Scott noted.  "It gives the roasted flavor to the braise."  He seared all sides, sometimes propping them up on the side of the pan.
Browned lamb
As the lamb achieved its crisp golden color, Scott added large vegetables to the pan.  Carrots, onions, and celery are musts for braising, but he also added fennel.  The least moist vegetable, the carrots, go in first, followed by the onions, celery, and fennel.  It is important to use large chunks so that they have surface area to caramelize.  I was surprised to see that the vegetables had enough natural sugars to caramelize to that extent.  I have come to associate "caramelized" with the onions found on pub-style burgers and always assumed that copious amounts of residual sugar were needed.  Scott corrected this fallacy.
Scott points out a caramelized carrot
As the vegetables cook, it is important to remove the lamb as it finishes browning.  One must also keep an eye on the color of the braising liquid; if it becomes too dark, it acquires a bitter taste and cannot be used.  Scott stressed the importance of not salting the vegetables as well.  The salted meat provides the seasoning for the braise.  If one were to add salt to the vegetables, the salt would become overpowering as the liquid reduced.
Removed shanks
As the vegetables neared completion, Scott tossed in five heads of garlic, skin and all.  In addition, he chopped fresh kumato tomatoes into wedges and added them.  He let it all cook down until the tomatoes had almost disappeared.  He went on to add a blend of star anise, cinnamon stick, fennel seed, and coriander that he had prepared earlier with the help of a spice grinder.
Next, Scott placed the shanks back in along with a mix of water and stock, just enough to cover the meat.  He covered the shanks with circular parchment paper to submerge them.  Any meat protruding from the water would burn in the oven.  We waited until the pan began emitting slow, small bubbles.  Only then was it ready for braising.  We left it bubbling steadily at that rate until braised and tender.  To check to see if the meat is ready, you can stick it with a fork or a skewer.  When the meat slides off easily, it is probably done.

Separating the meat from the pig
As our final activity in the kitchen, we returned to the pig.  Scott lay the skin out and began separating the meat from the body.  As a seasoned pro, he removed the bones and cartilage quickly, which would have been a more difficult task for a pig newbie.  He then combined the protein with sweet and spicy pimenton, piquillo peppers, garlic, salt, sweet sherry vinegar, and olive oil.  He tightly bundled the entire mixture in saran wrap.  He explained that he would go on to place it in an ice bath, cool it down for about three hours, and serve it as "carpaccio" on a warm plate.
Rolling up the pig carpaccio
Finally, we had the chance to taste the spoils!  We assumed our positions around the bar and looked on in awe as James served us what Scott had just prepared, along with an extra risotto dish, family- style.  Food abounded; the dishes seemed bottomless and unending!  The lamb came out first, and the fact that I almost liked it speaks volumes to Scott's talents as a chef.  I'll spare you the gory details and say simply that I had a particularly traumatic experience with lamb during my first trip to Egypt.  It would take nothing short of amnesia to make me get over it, and this was the first time since I have enjoyed the taste and texture of the protein.  Next, James brought out the pork carpaccio.  It was my favorite dish of the afternoon.  The sweet, smokey flavor of the pimenton complimented the perfectly tender meat and lingered on my tongue.  A bed of arugula packed an extra punch of zest.

Carpaccio
I had the chance to speak more to Chef Scott about the techniques he employs and the ingredients he uses at Barcelona.  While some talented chefs are pointed and- dare I say- egotistical, he proved to be the opposite.  He graciously answered my questions and offered up a wealth of information.  Recently I've been learning about seafood and breaking down fish, so he told me about the enormous fresh fish market the team visits in Brooklyn.  He revealed that they made an incredible find there, fresh conch, and were in the process of braising it for dinner that night.  Conch is rare and preparing it is a tedious task; the entire process of cleaning one shell yields only an ounce or two of meat.  He peaked my curiosity so much that I returned during dinner service for the chance to try it.
The amount of meat that comes from one conch shell
Scott did incredible service to the exceptional ingredient.  He made a paella-like mixture with the braised fish, succulent rice, peppers, and spices.  He even incorporated a touch of freshly made bouillabaisse sauce.  The whole mixture was then returned to the shell and finished with a layer of toasted breadcrumbs.  The few ounces of rendered conch meat thus transformed into a rich, decadent, plate that exuded heat and flavor.  I was impressed that Scott created a warm, spicy dish from the conch- a perfect combination for a chilly winter's day.  I associate rarer types of seafood with light, barely cooked crudos, and was thrilled to encounter such a wonderfully unexpected preparation.
Top Photo: Conch, sherry pairing, and scallop ceviche (Left to Right)
Below: Conch
I left Barcelona on Saturday night inspired, amazed, and eager to start braising!  (I'm sure my landlord will be thrilled since braising requires high heat, flaming burners, and an assortment of spices that will permeate through the building!)  I am so grateful to Chef Scott for sharing his vast knowledge with us and to the Barcelona staff for making us feel at home.  I plan on signing up for cooking classes to come, and certainly recommend them to culinary amateurs and veterans alike!

Barcelona Website: http://www.barcelonawinebar.com/
Barcelona Class and Event Calendar: http://www.barcelonawinebar.com/calendar.htm

Barcelona Stamford
222 Summer St.
Stamford, CT 06901
203-348-4800


Tuesday, January 1, 2013

Dining By Design: New Year's Eve at Ginny's Supper Club and Red Rooster

New Year's Eve at Ginny's Supper Club
Even though a new year was fast approaching, I felt like I had travelled back in time to a bygone era.  While Red Rooster is a revered gourmet restaurant, it has the vibe of a Harlem night spot from the roaring twenties.  Hosts in classic attire greeted us and took our coats.  A hat stand with actual old school top hats and trench coats made it seem as though flappers and jazz legends were already being entertained inside.  Vintage memorabilia and photographs adorned the shelves and walls while Soul train played on a small VCR.
 
The time transport was complete when the host led us down the stairs and into a red, dimly lit hallway where another woman in black and lace looked up our names.  She led us into a glamorous speakeasy, with sparkling lights, old-fashioned bars, and golden tones.  This downstairs area, known as Ginny's Supper Club, is the young vibrant sister of Red Rooster.  It, too, is owned by acclaimed Chef Marcus Samuelsson.  He describes it as "an intimate lounge with a warm bourbon glow and an even warmer welcome."  While it offers delicious cocktails and food from the culinary icon, it regularly features live music.  The entertainment mirrors the ambiance, embracing the jazz and soul that defined the time period.

 
My friend and I selected Ginny's Supper Club as the place to ring in the new year.  Marcus Samuelsson held celebrations in both Red Rooster and Ginny's, but we chose Ginny's because of the festive additions.  The upstairs was decorated and bustling, but downstairs DJ Scratch played old school tunes, bartenders tended prohibition-inspired ornate countertops, and leather booths left guests free to lounge.  Even though everyone was dressed to impress and the room was elegant and classy, the aura still felt laid back.

Both spaces offered prix fixe 3 course meals, with the option of two seatings.  The first, which cost $75, could begin anytime between 7 and 8pm.  The tables remained until 9:30pm.  Then, the second seating started at 10.  For $150, guests enjoyed the same food as well as an open bar until 2am.  DJ Scratch started spinning at the first seating, and the music built over the course of the evening.  By the time midnight hit, live music and Superhero DJ Jon Quick would be hosting a full out party.

We chose the first seating so that we could have a festive night out with delicious food, music, and company, but still be back home to see the ball drop with our loved ones.  (We also figured we could avoid any drunken lunatics we might encounter on a late train ride home out of NYC after the ball drop.)


We began the evening with a glass of Prosecco, toasting to the year gone by and the one ahead.  While the name slips my mind (forgive me, I was in celebration-mode!), it was perfectly balanced.  It had just enough amounts of fruit, crispness, and bubble without becoming overpowering.  At $11 a glass, it was not indordinately expensive for a New Year's Eve sparkler.

The restaurant had another special spirit available that night, a Swedish beverage called glogg that I just encountered for the first time at a Christmas party about a week ago.  Samuelsson served it as tribute to his Swedish heritage, as he frequently integrates both Swedish and Ethiopian touches into his cuisine.  The drink is a mulled red wine with spices like cloves and cinnamon.  Aquavit (or brandy or vodka in some versions) makes it especially robust.  Almonds and raisins provide the finishing touch.  The glogg was brewed fresh behind the upstairs bar all night by a charming bartender. The warm glass mug was a great choice for patrons coming in from the cold winter air.  Although we did not have it when we entered, we went back to the bar on the way out for a final warm drink before the chilly walk back to the train.

Cornbread and rolls
After the bubbly arrived, our served delivered a delicious bread plate.  It had four rolls of two varieties: a salted rosemary roll and a mini piece cornbread.  The cornbread resembled madeleine cookies in size and shape.  It tasted like authentic home-style cooking, but a few corn kernels baked in set it apart and reminded us that we were, in fact, in an upscale gourmet restaurant.  The salted rosemary roll was the true prize though.  The top was slightly crisp and the inside proved perfectly flaky.  The top was salted, seasoned, and slightly oiled.  At the same time, the petite size kept it from being overly filling or rich in any way.

I decided on the "lump crab cake with citrus relish and old baby aioli" as an appetizer. Normally a crab cake would be too much for my stomach (which is sensitive to dairy and fried food), but when I saw citrus relish I surmised that the preparation would probably be more delicate in order to compliment the accompaniment.  I guessed correctly; the cakes were light, texturally delicate, and derived flavor from careful seasoning rather than a fried preparation.  I relished the relish (tee-hee), which included finely cut cucumbers, peppers, citrus (grapefruit maybe, more fancy than a regular orange), cilantro, and onion.  The onion was only slightly detectable, a trait I admired.  It enhanced the relish rather than overpowering my taste buds and leaving me dreading what my breath might smell like the next morning.

Crabcakes with aioli on the side
I would also like to point out that you read correctly when you saw the word "cakes."  While some gourmet restaurants skimp on the portions, Samuelsson was generous with his appetizers and throughout the evening.  The "lump crab cake" was actually two medallions.  Like the rolls that came before, the amount gave me the opportunity to enjoy it all without filling me up for the next phase of the meal.

Jerked bobo chicken with plantain twill
Next, the server presented me with Samuelsson's famous "Jerked Bobo Chicken."  Really, they could have called it chickens; twin breasts appeared on the plate in front of me.  Each bite contained a harmonious spice blend that paid tribute to both Ethiopian and Southern cooking styles.  A long delicate plantain twill sat atop it as a decorative, yet delicious, touch.  I loved the preparation; it was exceptionally moist and probably baked.  Still, it managed to avoid any trace of oil or grease.  I savored every last morsel.  Literally!

As a sweet ending to the meal and 2012, every guest received "a duo of sweets."  Although labeled a duo, it actually contained three components: a creamsicle, sorbet, and chocolate caramel tart.  I fell in love with the sorbet.  It originally appeared as a "champagne sorbet" on the pre-published menu, but the actual event involved "kir royale sorbet."  It was luscious and flavorful, exuding decadent notes without ever become overpoweringly sweet.  I would certainly count that singular component as one of the best desserts I have had during 2012.  The chocolate caramel tart came in second.  It hovered between fudge, mousse, and brownie.  It was by far the richest item on the plate, but again the small portion made it beautiful rather than exceedingly rich.  The caramel added a subtle, seasonal twist to the chocolate that I delighted in.


Dessert: Kir Royale sorbet (top left) on top of the creamsicle, with tart at right
The food, music, ambiance, and company would have made the evening perfect as it was.  However, the true highlight of the night came when I glimpsed Marcus Samuelsson.  Fashionable and dapper, he wore red pants, a suit, and a red tie for the celebratory occasion.  He seemed to float around the room as if wearing an invisibility cloak.  One second he was jovially conversing with a server- then he was gone.  He then suddenly reappeared with his arm around the DJ- only to vanish again.  "He's like a ninja," my friend chuckled.  All of a sudden he reappeared at our table, shaking our hands and thanking us for coming.  "I love your dress," he said to me sincerely.  "It's gorgeous."  He has impeccable style himself, so I took that as a deep compliment.  "Well, I loved your chicken," I said.  "I ate every last morsel."  He smiled, posed for a picture, and vanished again.


And so it goes with the years of our lives.  They arrive in fanfare and glory, but then, as quick as they come, become memories.  Suddenly another one announces itself and celebration ensues, until that, too, passes:

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And auld lang syne!

For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne.
We'll take a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne


Ginny's Supper Club
310 Lenox Avenue
212.421.3821
info@ginnyssupperclub.com
http://www.ginnyssupperclub.com/