New Year's in Bath

 For New Year's, Shelly found a hotel in Bath offering a 6-course dinner, dancing and champagne for the evening!  We drove out early on New Year's Eve to explore the city and rest before our big night.  And it was big.  After courses like smoked venison with pickled walnuts and beetroot, mushroom truffle soup with puff pastry lid, and lamb loin with rosemary cream, we shared at least 4 bottles of champagne with our new French friends until about 4am.  I'd been looking forward to attempting black pudding at the hotel's fancy brunch the next morning, but that's just too much champagne.

Smoked raw venison with pickled walnuts, beets and cranberry sauce

Savory wild mushroom and truffle soup with puff pastry lid

Getting festive

Almost midnight!

MacDonald Hotel at dusk

Fisherman's Pie

 Yeah, I know it doesn't look like much, but this melty, cheese-covered wallop of mashed potatoes, tender cod, shrimp and monkfish in cream sauce tastes like what you'd expect when you combine these things: AMAZING.

Traditional pub, Bath

Tom's Kitchen Chelsea

Context is crucial for Tom's Kitchen.  If you know chef Tom Aikens, that's certain to provide context for the sustainable, seasonal menu.  If you can navigate from the South Kensington tube station to the restaurant, winding through some of the quaintest and most luxurious homes in the world (let alone London) then you also have geographic and psychographic context.  If you're acquainted with crisp London mornings so icy the streets are quiet, then the warmth of the open kitchen and jovial servers might be the best context of all for comfort food.

Tom's is known for celebrity/sustainability/location and it's true, my own experience was very specific to the ingredients, address and atmosphere—but it's how personal and special it felt to me that was impressive.  If every restaurant I went to felt like coming home (and, you know, being treated like royalty) I guarantee cooking at home would be a lost art.  I ordered a smoked salmon eggs benedict with hollandaise sauce so lemony I ignored how rich it was.  The egg yolks were bright orange and it was a shame to break them!  I was insanely hungry for brunch at 2pm so I ordered thick-cut French fries and they might have been the best I've ever tasted.  Ketchup optional.

Two-meat Meat-balls

To carb-load for the Second Annual Carmel Half Marathon Invitational (wow, that's a mouthful), Chris and I whipped up lamb and pork meatballs.  Panko breadcrumbs and chopped herbs made all the difference with more white pepper than you'd think you could handle; also known as just the right amount!  Given the measure of meat, one egg should have been enough but a second yolk made the meatballs much softer yet still stick together.  Sauteed mushrooms in garlicky tomato sauce sealed the deal.

Shepherd's Pie

Fresh off our quick trip to London, John and I were craving the comforting, hearty mushiness of shepherd's pie like no other.  It didn't help that our search for a good country pie in London was impossible what with pubs offering more culinary options these days.  (And it's hard to count the one we ate on the plane home, for obvious reasons.)  I made ours from a combination of recipes, both low-fat and, well, high.

Meat Mixture

• 2 sprays of canola oil
• 1 onion, chopped and softened in the skillet
• 2 carrots, peeled, sliced and softened
• 3 celery stalks, chopped and softened
• 2 cloves garlic, pressed
• 1 lb. ground beef, browned in the skillet with softened vegetables
• dash worcestershire sauce (or a couple)
• 1 cup beef broth (extra boullion)
• 1 cup frozen peas added right before the oven
• salt & pepper to taste

Whipped Potatoes

• 4 large potatoes (I used 3 goldens and 1 russet)
• 1/2 cup no-fat sour cream mixed in while whipping potatoes
• 1/2 cup grated parmesan mixed in
• 1 tsp white pepper
• 1 tsp salt
• 3/4 cup low-fat mozzarella grated and sprinkled over the top of the casserole in the oven

Once the potatoes were whipped and the beef was browned, they were layered and sprinkled with cheese for 1 hour at 350º.  We ate it two nights in a row and had second helpings each time!

Bather's Pavilion

When I googled "Sydney's best brunch" a year ago, the resounding winner was Bather's Pavilion.  Not having a chance to figure out a 3-hour chunk of time when I could cab or bus all the way up to Balmoral Beach, I was resigned to knowing it was the best without actually backing it up with experience.  Until this week!  Meagen and I had 3 free hours between a late-morning meeting and afternoon reviews, so we sped up there as quickly as we could.  The landmark building was established in the late 20's to accommodate beachgoers in the fashion of the day.  It still has a charm that would be hard to find many other places in the world, a mix of old-fashioned elegance and sunny frivolity.  Layer that with a world-class chef whose restaurant also has a casual cafe and it's a pretty special place.  I ate a summery, smooth gazpacho with sliced cucumber and micro radish shoots plus a cool roasted tomato, eggplant and greenbean salad topped with baba ganoush.  I loved the roaring garlic in the eggplant spread.  It made the fresh vegetables taste that much sweeter.

Sydney's Hottest

The joke on this trip is that I'm like Stefon from SNL's Weekend Update with endless tips on Sydney's hottest spots.  It started with my over-selling of restaurants when we arrived: harborside for fireworks, Duke's to impress clients, beach brunch at Bondi, you get the idea.  With only the best intentions, I've managed to channel Stefon as club promoter, complete with excited (and awkward) hand gestures.  Below, a guide to Sydney's HOTTEST and all their unique selling points.

Duke Bistro: Sydney's hottest pancake party is Duke. Buttered radishes, test tube mushrooms and drug addict models.  

Ripples: Nibbles at ripples can’t be matched.  Say that five times fast.

Bondi Trattoria: If you’re looking for hot surfers and even hotter moms, the trat is where it’s at.

Zushi: Sydney's hottest gay sushi is Zushi.

Macchiato: Sydney’s hottest figs are at Macchiato.

Bambini: Meat butter.

Cruise Bar: Sydney’s most popular bar on Circular Quay that connects to the cruise ship terminal has red bull sangria and tank tops worn as dresses.

Toko: Sydney’s hottest scene is Toko with backless chairs, bottomless martinis and Brit cricketers.

Bather’s Pavilion: Sydney’s hottest non-alcoholic beach scene.

Toro: Disco. Ball. Sangria by the litre.  Don’t look further than Toro.  Sydney’s hottest tapas.

7-11: Sydney's hottest, sold-out lemon-lime-and-bitters slurpee.

Jimmy Liks: Sydney's hottest chili sauce.  Literally.

Zeta: If you’re in the mood for rose-infused foam, peach beer, and questionable pinot, Zeta has you covered.

Marble Bar: Sydney’s hottest (and only) bar made of marble.

Pitt Street: If you can’t get enough secondhand smoke, B.O. or 90º heat at midnight, Pitt Street pavement is where you want to be.

It's Easier to Just Go Out

You know, almost every night of the week—out of habit on weekdays and principle on weekends—I consider dining out.  I wasn't raised on take-out or at a series of chain restaurants, so what makes me such a sucker for them now?  A good, three-dish meal of a main and two sides or a salad is what I think of as a normal dinner.  Yet I'm constantly yearning for an appetizer, entree and dessert.  What is wrong with me!?

In Sydney for work, I've got a list of restaurants a mile long, recommended by coworkers, ex-pats, clients and even the hotel concierge.  And I wouldn't really be comfortable not knowing where to go for pizza or sushi for two weeks.  But what's surprising is that I have the same approach at home in SF.

7x7 Magazine arrives monthly.  Since that's not nearly often enough, I receive daily emails about restaurant openings, celebrity chef gossip or recipes (depending), and the hottest menu items across the city.  7x7 isn't the only daily food newsletter I read.  I also get Tasting Table, Daily Candy, FoodBuzz, Fresh Guide, SF Magazine and Bloomspot.  Between these emails, "water cooler" talk, impressing visiting friends and a desire to conquer great-tasting food in general, my brain could explode with dinner options.  Is this why I want to go out every night?  To stay in the game?

Then again, it's really easy to go out.  Once seated in a sushi restaurant, edamame is nearly instant and sashimi is about 10 minutes out of the gate.  If I'm hungry now, sushi gets it done.  Mexican restaurants get salsa in my belly in even less time.  If the name of the game is quantity, I can get more burrito for my buck than a lot of supermarket proteins.  Is that why I want to go out?  Because it's quick and satisfying?

I don't know when food culture turned from sustenance to obsession.  For me, dining is so many things: comforting; catching up with the person dining with me; a link to a past mood/experience/flavor; even an adventure with a sense of accomplishment at its culmination.  What other action on earth provides so many opportunities?

But I'm rationalizing the appeal of restaurants on a daily basis—why am I not creating these experiences at home night after night?  The truth is, I would if I could.  I love to wake up on a weekend morning with nothing on my mind except how complicated of a meal I can create all day.  I love buying the ingredients and imagining their transformation, sometimes giddy about how sneaky I'll be: "when I'm done with you, you won't even know what you started as!"  Great ingredients are exciting.  I love imagining, then literally selecting which pans I'll use; like a painter choosing brushes.  I love the choreography of the kitchen, from fine calculations that will keep everything moving forward, hot, and on the same schedule, to the cleverness in reusing tools at just the right moment.  I love the smells and the textures and the taste, but you already knew all that!  All of these things just feel impossible during the work week.  Long days at work, regardless of the number of hours, and I'm ready for all those wonderful reasons I cook to be overpowered by two thoughts: someone else doing the heavy lifting and being able to taste something delicious almost immediately.

So what have I learned, putting this down in writing?  Apparently, the biggest driver for me to dine out is ease.  I always thought it was an insatiable desire to taste new things in new environments with great company.  In reality, I would enjoy cooking my own tasting menu for a group of friends much more than in a restaurant.  But I still want a burrito on a Thursday night because it's been a rough week, I'm tired, I don't want to stand up for 2 hours peeling vegetables and dangit, I want it right now!

All said, I still want to eat at all the best restaurants.  That doesn't go away.  Yet I realize that's a desire which more closely resembles wanderlust or dress envy.  What drives me to frivolously dine out year round is blatant laziness.  Whew, glad I figured that out.

Il Portico

Our waiter plus our hosts Shelly and Enda

A true gem on Kensington High Street, our recent trip to London would not have been nearly so impressive had we not dined at Il Portico.  It claims to be London's oldest family-run restaurant, however the history and/or PR-ability of it paled in comparison to the food itself.  Simple dishes with minimal flavor corrections: light-as-air gnocchi with gorgonzola cheese.  Spaghettini alle vongole with al dente spaghetti, tender clams and an olive oil, chile oil and white wine sauce.  Minstrone with cabbage and real chicken stock.  Nothing overpowering, nothing out of place.  It was divine Italian.

The Gift of Greek

 For mom's birthday this year, a Greek feast seemed quite fitting.  After such a decadent year, we went for a rustic, simple meal:

• Tzatziki with sweet baguette
• Kalamata olives
• Avgolemono soup
• Lamb Kleftiko
• Baclava with vanilla bean ice cream

The tzatziki recipe called for more attention to detail than I'd given the dish before—2 Tbsp lemon juice and white pepper were impressive additions.  From past experience, I reduced the suggestion of 6 cloves of garlic to just 1, and was glad for it.  For the cucumbers, I grated one and thinly sliced the other for texture contrast, before drying them on paper towels for 30 min.

• 3 tbsp. olive oil
• 1 tbsp. white wine vinegar
• 1 clove garlic, minced finely
• 1 tsp. salt
• 1/2 tsp. white pepper
• 4 cups greek yogurt, strained
• 1 cup sour cream
• 2 cucumbers, peeled, seeded and grated or sliced extra thinly
• 4 tsp. chopped fresh dill

My mom would prepare avgolemono soup from time to time when we were growing up and it was always comforting and surprisingly tangy, a wonderful remedy for a cold winter night.  Our version was made with rice instead of orzo, so it had less lemony tang and more starch. 

• 12 c. chicken broth
• 2 c. rice
• Salt and pepper to taste
• 4 eggs
• Juice of 4 lemons

While we found a variety of Kleftiko recipes online and in the Greek cookbooks I brought home, it seemed like the best way to achieve the glory of a Mama Thira dish would be to go by feel.  We started with a pound of lamb and diced it, removing all fat so only the olive oil would flavor it.  In a deep sautee pan, we simmered chopped yellow onions, diced golden potatoes and as much oregano, fresh dill, basil, mint and garlic as we could.  The kitchen was so filled with the aromas of a Greek taverna, I could practically feel the Mediterranean sun.  Once the potatoes were softened, after about 20-30 min, we added the lamb, salt and pepper.  Separately, in the oven, super-thinly sliced potatoes sprayed with olive oil and sea salt were broiled until golden and crispy.  To create each plate, we first made a ring of crispy potato slices.  On top went a serving of the herbed lamb and potato.  Finally, chopped tomato was placed around the meat, tzatziki drizzled on top and a sprig of rosemary for garnish.

• 1 lb. lamb, trimmed and diced
• 2 large yellow onions, diced
• 4 medium golden potatoes, sliced thinly
• 4 medium golden potatoes, diced
• 2 Tbs (or more, to taste) fresh dill, oregano, rosemary & thyme
• Chopped tomato, for garnish
• Tzatziki, for garnish

We made the baclava while the Kleftiko was in progress.  Ignoring the recipe's suggestion to layer up to 5 pieces of phyllo between each brushing of butter and nuts, we made each layer its own contributor to the final product:

• 1 package phyllo dough
• 1/2 lb. butter
• 1 lb. chopped nuts (walnuts, almonds, pistachios)
• Lots of cinnamon
• 1/2 cup honey
• 1 cup water
• Lime zest

We actually used much more than a pound of nuts and discovered that only one cup of water boiled with the honey wasn't enough syrup.  Next time, enough syrup to practically drown the pastry is a must!

Mama Thira

Our first night in gorgeous Santorini, we ventured only 50 ft outside Firostefani to Mama Thira.  Overlooking the caldera with two-story, unobstructed views, our table was set at a diagonal so we could both face the windows and the stunning scenery below.  Our diet of lamb—in many and any form—led us to discover Kleftiko, a lamb and yogurt baked dish.  We read that Kleftiko translates to 'bandit's lamb' because when times were tough, thieves would steal fresh lambs and cook them inside a closed pot so the farmers couldn't smell or see the savory smoke!  Add some potatoes, carrots, yogurt and tomato, and this clay pot is seriously delicious.

Firostefani by night

It was perhaps backwards for us to try Kleftiko for the first time at Mama Thira, since their version was a culinary event: deconstructed to a layered masterpiece of crispy scalloped potatoes, soft cubed potatoes, carrots, fresh tomato, bite-sized and oh-so-tender lamb in all the comforting Greek spices.  On top, tzatziki was generously drizzled and garnished with parsley and parmesan.  Simple and traditional comfort food made beautiful.  And the presentation was only half the event: the cubed lamb was impossibly tender on the inside while crispy and herb-encrusted on the outside.  Each bite was a mix of oregano, dill and garlic with that significant olive oil flavor that only seems possible to achieve in the Mediterranean.

"Deconstructed" Kleftiko at Mama Thira

Mama Thira initially drew us in with their appetizer sampler of my three favorite spreads: tzatziki, taramosalata and melezane.  Tzatziki was a staple at every meal of ours with creamy, garlicky yogurt often filled with shredded cucumber, mint and sliced garlic.  A drizzle of fragrant olive oil and I'm in heaven.  John wasn't as big a fan of the Tarama, salty fish roe pureed with potato and yogurt, but I'm a sucker for that salty sea flavor.  The melezane, typically roasted eggplant with garlic and roasted red bell pepper, was especially good without being overly oily.  My ouzo paired magnificently with the powerful garlic in each spread.

Tzatziki, Melezane & Tarama

We loved our experience so much, we decided (pretty much on the spot) that we would be back again before we left Santorini.  Only our last night on the island seemed fitting!

Blowfish Sushi

Potrero Hill is so unassuming!  I'm sure if I spent more time there, I would recognize the restaurants among the warehouses, but I'm currently pleasantly surprised every time I pull up in front of a much-talked-about restaurant on a quiet, dark street like Bryant or Mariposa.  Blowfish Sushi (To Die For) (it's part of the name) was participating in SF's Dine About Town with a killer prix fixe menu tonight.  Ritsu roll: tuna, avocado and tobiko flash-tempura-fried; Chirashi chef's choice with the rawest prawn I've swallowed and salty giant roe; finally green tea cheesecake with green tea ice cream and an impressive spun sugar swirl.  My dates thought the clam and prawn were a little too much raw texture to stomach, but I love to try something a little different.  I couldn't get enough of the giant roe either, mixed in with some sweet sushi rice and extra fresh, extra potent wasabi.

Koi

I'm always surprised that some of the best spots in LA are in the most random locations.  Or, um, I guess that could be explained by my absolute resistance to acquainting myself with LA and thusly locations seem more random than they actually, probably are.  In any case.  Koi was on la Cienega near Santa Monica.  WhatEVER.

The creative team I was traveling with had been to Koi at least a few times before, so I let them order and never even attempted to read the menu.  It was too dark anyway, without my glasses on I could barely make out the fork at my placesetting let alone a menu.  However, for all my reluctance to appreciate LA, when the deconstructed California rolls arrived, I was in sushi heaven.  Our waiter recommended adding fresh avocado to the soft crab wrapped in super thin rice paper with smoky toasted sesame.  Tuna with jalapeno, miso cod, lobster tacos.  I was barely willing to tear my attention away from the ridiculously innovative sushi bites to catch a glimpse of David Spade at the table next to us.

Speedos on Bondi

Recommended by my too-hip Aussie coworker, I was a little worried Speedos might be too much of a scene for me to relax at on a casual Sunday morning, my single day off in Sydney.  But I forget that Bondi is the Santa Cruz to Sydney's already lax SF and any clothing in addition to board shorts and bikinis is pretty much optional.  Speedos was meters from the surf, catering to locals and wanderers looking for coffee by the bar or comfort food by the truckload.  Close to 1pm (it took me a while to figure out the right bus to take to Bondi and a bit longer to walk the arc of the beach) I was ravenous and opted for the menu listing with the most goodies.  Thick Turkish toast, eggs with yolks the color of pumpkins, soft bacon, sweet sausage with sweeter tomato chutney and crispy hashbrowns.  Sure, it was far more food than I needed, but I thoroughly enjoyed tasting the range of flavors and combinations. 

Still My Favorite Brunch

Less than a mile from my old home in Belltown, Lola is still my favorite.  Loud in that airy, sparkling way that feels cozy and comfortable with a twinge of excitement.  Whether celebrating with a group or finding a table by the window with Shelly, it always feels like an event.  For my birthday, Sherry and Kristin surprised me with brunch there on a crisp, crystal clear Seattle morning.

We had to start with beignets, as one does at Lola, which arrive with clotted cream, strawberry rhubarb compote, and taste like warm, sugary...vehicle food.  I love how light and fluffy they are on the outside,   crispy on the outside with giant granules of sugar so you can't miss the texture match.

In a sort of embarrassing coincidence, we all ordered the exact same dish with the exact same style of eggs: Tom's Big Breakfast with octopus, pumpkin, spinach, bacon, red onion and sunny-over-medium egg.  All of this on a bed of garlic yogurt with vegetable caviar and seeds that pop with flavor.  I really can't forget to mention the spectacular coffee but I guess that goes without saying in Seattle.  Can't wait for my next trip north, as soon as it starts to get cold in SF, I miss meandering around Belltown.