Slow food dinner at the River Oyster Bar

I think I've finally figured out why I always end up chatting with the organizing committee when I go out to event like this. I go by myself and, when I arrive, choose a relatively quiet and well-lit corner to take my pictures and notes. That means I usually am sitting by myself, or at least with a spare seat or two around me, as everyone get situated so the very last people to get to sit down, the aforementioned organizing committee (minus the host of that particular event) end up at my table.

Last Sunday I managed to be on my own all the way through the amuse bouche course before anyone joined me at my table. Actually, I think a lot of the crowd took a typically Miami attitude towards punctuality as the waitstaff, tired of milling around with full platters, became insistant. I ended up amusing my bouche a full seven times. Eventually my table was filled with Leticia, the Slow Food Miami's gustatory coordinator, the rep from Domaine Chandon, thw winery that supplied the evening's wine pairings (all sparkling, by the way) whose name I rudely neglected to write down (and also Irene, the director of special events for a local organic Italian joint. But she doesn't fit my narrative so gets exiled into this parenthetical). Also dropping by the table were Alajandra from Romanico's who supplied little truffle boxes as place settings and Margie of Bee Heaven farm who supplied some of the vegetables for the evening.

The event proceeded the usual way Slow Food Miami events do--a series of courses paired with wines interrupted by short speeches by the chef--David Bracha in this case who spoke about how important it is to let people know what fresh, organic and local is like and how he supports Slow Food Miami's school gardens project--the provider of some of the ingredients--here Steve Garza (pictured to the right) of White Water Farm who provided the oysters and, I think, the conch--and a longer usually inaudible speech by Donna Reno. They've got a press officer so I'm sure the official minutes will be produced sooner or later, but you're probaly best served heading over to Miami Dish for Trina's well-researched background piece.

I'm just going to talk about how everything tasted.

First up, a queen conch pinchon served with scotch bonnet jam.

The scotch bonnet glaze dominates the first flavor sensations with a fruity sweetness and slight burn. That quickly fades into the mild, slightly burnt, flavor of the grilled (I'm guessing) conch. It was pretty tender as conch goes which I'm going to attribute to the species as I don't think the cooking style is a particularly gentle one. The flavor combination was pleasant, but the crossfade between them was brief. It would have been nice if they had more time to mingle. Maybe a marinade would help?

The other amuse bouche was a Sebastian Bay White Water oyster shooter.

Also in that shotglass is heirloom tomato water, Chopin vodka and grated horseradish. If you take a sniff of the shot, the horseradish knocks you back and if you shoot it as prescribed, that pungency plus the bite of the vodka overwhelm the mild oyster. But I found that if I downed half the liquid first and then shot the rest, the flavors were much better balanced with the oyster's sweet saltiness matching with the tomato and the reduced horseradish as a complimenting note.

The service started a bit confused so the wine pairings for these two were offered too early and too late and in the wrong order. But I did manage to obtain another shooter to try with the reserve pinot noir brut. Unfortunately, I thought the wine was a bit strong for the mild oyster and blew it off the palate. A pleasant sip otherwise.

The first course was a Key West pink shrimp a la plancha with white bean puree and a side salad dressed with an arugula-walnut pesto.

I was a bit trepidatious about this course as, in my limited experience with Key West shrimp, they can be a bit funky. And, in fact, my shrimp did have that smell about it, but I think that was just from the head as the actually flesh was buttery and sweet. The puree was a lump of smushed up beans that I expect didn't turn out quite as the chef had hoped. Not great on its own, but its earthiness grounded the shrimp's flavor nicely when tasted together. The salad had creamy goat cheese, fresh tomato, peppery arugula and bright pesto all playing off each other both in flavor and texture. Really quite fabulous.

The wine pairing was an etoile brut which was light but sour which I thought was a pleasant contrast with the pesto and cut through the richness of the shrimp.

The main course was a Key West yellowtail snapper on a bed of red chard, topped with grapefruit and microgreens with a citrus sauce.

The fish was flavorful but plainly prepared so you had to dredge it in the chokingly tart sauce to balance the flavors. But once you did, it was very nice. The grapefruit I'm not sold on. It gave a lasting sourness that clashed with the fish instead of the quick hit of sweet/tart the sauce offered. And the chard didn't do much. It was a bit limp and it's mildness didn't hold up against the other flavors on the plate. Maybe it's just me though; I'm down on chard in general in favor of callaloo, collards and other more flavorful greens.

The wine, a reserve chardonnay brut, mirrored the flavors in the sauce except less sweet which I thought worked well.

Finally, we had a choice of deserts. I passed on the rum-soaked coconut cream cake. Instead I had the Homestead goat cheese panna cotta with Florida honey, dates,port-poached blackberries and other more difficult to identify fruits as well. Unfortunately, I was undone by drink by this point and neglected to get a photograph. Fortunately, though, Trina got a pic of it during her preview so if you didn't look earlier, please head over now to take a look before reading further.

The panna cotta had a very nice texture--soft and creamy, just barely holding its shape. It has the goat cheese funk so a bit off-putting on its own, but able to stand up to the tart raspberry/honey sauce in a way a standard panna cotta couldn't. Quite nice. I particularly liked how the character of the dish would change depending on which piece of fruit you had in your spoonful.

I never got the reserve extra-dry riche that was suppose to pair with this dish, but I did get to try the ten cane rum that went with the coconut cake. Very light and smooth. I can't see it standing up in many mixed drinks except maybe a mojito, but dangerously easy drinking on its own.

And that's the evening. A very nice meal all the way around, I thought. If you were there, please leave a comment with your thoughts, a pointer to your write-up or admonishment for my write-up's shortcomings which I will endeavor to remedy.

Slow Food Miami 2009 annual meeting

Last night was the Slow Food Miami annual meeting. I haven't been to many Slow Food events recently--too many overpriced events [Edit: Actually, "overpriced" isn't an applicable term for an event where some of the entry fee goes to support a non-profit organization--in this case Slow Food Miami's good works in school gardens. I should have said that these were events beyond my ability to afford.] at inconvenient venues with not especially appealing menus. But the annual meeting was being catered by chef Kris Wessel from Red Light about whom I've heard good things and he was presenting a very ambitious spread. I figured it was worth sitting through the convivium business and announcements to check it out.

Trina of MiamiDish.net was there too and said hello. (I hope it's not inappropriate to say that I liked her dress. Because I did.) She'll likely give you details on the event as an event so I'm going to talk a bit more about the food and my personal take on things. There's also some good coverage on the Miami New Times Short Order blog by Jackie Sayet. She must have been the other gal I saw wandering around taking pictures. I didn't notice what she was wearing.

The food suffered from the usual take-the-chef-out-of-his-kitchen-and-make-him-serve-buffet-style problems (see every other episode of Top Chef for details), but there were certainly some highlights worth pointing out.

On this plate you can see October plum-braised rabbit on the left, boniato (something between a sweet potato and yuca) in the middle, Little Haiti-style goat on the right with butternut squash gnocchi and braised callaloo up top. My favorite here was the callaloo; it's a different sort than what we get in the CSA from Three Sisters Farms with a lighter flavor and better texture, although that may be from the Southern-style braise Wessel gave it.

On this plate are an Apalachicola oyster pie, grass-fed steak tartar and a mysterious seafood dip that wasn't on the menu. I asked the volunteer culinary student from FIU manning the station (who was a dab hand at dishing out the tartar; Look at that perfect quenelle!) but he couldn't tell me anything more. It was really good but the flavors were so well integrated that I hesitate to embarrass myself trying to guess the ingredients. You can also see a bit, in the upper left corner, of a Bloody Mary shot that was bright, fresh and tangy; very nice. There was some buzz in the room about the oyster pie, but personally I found the breading to oyster ratio off and the sprinkling of coarse salt on top overpowering. But it was popular so maybe it was just the one I got.

Next up was a trip to the grain station. From the upper left corner, white and pink lentils, a green lentil salad with wheat grass, cucumber quinoa and Homestead corn and red pepper salad. My favorite of this batch was the corn salad which had a nice combination of fresh flavors.

Local seafood is next with banana leaf steamed mahi mahi over chocolate rice, Haulover snapper over coconut rice and upper Panhandle shrimp in Wessel's signature BBQ sauce. While I liked the balance of citrus and herbal flavors infused into the mahi, I'm a sucker for this sort of Louisiana-style BBQ shrimp. I could eat them by the bucketful, but I just got the one. The very last one in the place, actually.

And if that wasn't enough, more meat. That's a guava-glazed pork rib (not on the menu so I can't give details) and a slab of grass fed prime rib. The rib looks burnt, but that's just my lousy white balance since I tried to get in the glass of calabazza pumpkin soup in the back. It was actually very nicely caramelized and perfectly cooked through. Best savory dish of the night.

In the back you can also see the place setting. Here's a better look:
The little plastic containers are full of microgreen basil and amaranth grown by Thi Squire of C & B Farms who came by the table where we talked about varieties and uses of callaloo--more than you think on both counts. There's also bottles of Italian specialty vinegars which don't really fit into the event theme, but the head of the convivium, Donna Reno, must have some connections there as she does as many regional Italian events as ones featuring local cuisine. And there's a centerpiece of local herbs grown by Bee Heaven Farm that we were encouraged to take home and repurpose. I grabbed the basil and a bottle of the pinot grigio vinegar myself and just made a pretty good sandwich featuring both in supporting roles.

After all that food came the businessy bit. Donna introduced the new board of directors including two new positions--a Farm Liaison and a Community Development Director--and the new director of communication, Mandy Baca who happened to be sitting next to me and with whom I had quite an interesting discussion about the state of Slow Flood Miami and where it might be going next. Also, Donna declared herself President for Life and I was the only one who objected. She probably thinks I was just being a jerk, but I think term limits are important, particularly in this sort of small local organization. Also I was kind of being a jerk.

Then Chef Wessel talked about the importance of chefs working with local farmers and taking inspiration from local culture. It was rousing stuff; he should consider doing some lecturing on the topic.

And finally, dessert:
That's, kind of obviously, pecan and key lime pie. The key lime pie I really like. The drizzle of fresh lime juice over top balanced the sweetness of the filling and the loosely whipped cream was a lovely textural contrast to the custard and the crumbly crust.

And with the food gone, the crowd stampeded for the door. You know, coffee would help slow that down. They should have had some coffee. Otherwise, a well-planned and well-executed evening. Everyone involved should be pleased and proud of themselves.

Slow Food at Creek 28

Last night I attended a Slow Food Miami dinner at Creek 28 hotel and restaurant. There wasn't any particular event or special guest involved--just a highlight on local, seasonal and organic ingredients. The chef, Kira Volz, talked to us about how, in many big cities if you want local/seasonal/organic you've got a lot of choices, but here in Miami she's one of the few working in this area. She's even started a kitchen garden to ensure supplies. She thinks, and I agree, that we should have our pick of restaurants where the chefs think about the ingredients they're using.

If you'll pardon a tangent here, I'm a bit concerned about seeing local/seasonal/organic become trendy and so many chefs on the cooking shows I watch talking about it as if it constituted a style or a cuisine. It's not; it's just the basics. It seems to me that if you're a chef looking for the best ingredients to work with you're naturally led to either with traditional regional ingredients shipped halfway across the world daily or local/seasonal/organic. It makes sense that here in Miami we see a lot of chefs taking the first option and neglecting the second, but either way you're just describing your ingredients. Once you've done that, you need to have a style and a point of view--particularly if your style is something as nebulous as New American cuisine or, as Chef Volz, puts it "eclectic neighborhood dining". An unfocused menu isn't that big a deal, but if local/seasonal/organic is a style then it can go out of style as the fooderati move on to the next new hotness and that would be a shame. Honestly, this is a tangent; this rant was engendered more by the latest season of Top Chef than last night's dinner. You can look at the menu presented and decide for yourself if Chef Volz has anything interesting to say and/or if I have any idea what I'm talking about here.

Getting back to the meal, Chef Volz went on to introduce Margie Pikarsky from Bee Heaven Farms, familiar from her organization of the CSA I keep going on about, and Meghan Tanner, forager of produce at local farms and markets. Both ladies were recently profiled by Jacob Katel on the Short Order blog so I'll refer you over there for details.

Donna Reno then introduced a guest from Slow Food New York and possibly someone else from the Food Network. I didn't quite catch that last part as some rather rude folks at my table talked through it. Other, not rude people at my table included Holly Hickman, creator the quite interesting Sustainable Suppers podcast and website, and Rachel O'Kaine, organizer of these Slow Food events. I probably should have moved away to retain what small amount of journalistic integrity I've got here, but I had arrived early and picked the seat with the best lighting available and I wanted to make sure my pictures came out this time.

As it turns out, that didn't matter. We were seated out on the patio which was quite lovely, but after the speeches and the waitstaff taking our orders the rain that had been threatening all even began to fall in earnest and we all moved inside. The tables followed us, as the wait- and kitchen-staff including the chef brought them in--tablecloths, plates, stray napkins and all--and got us set up in the hotel lobby remarkably efficiently and smoothly and with little delay or trouble getting our orders right in serving the first course. Very impressive all the way around.

After we all got settled back in our seats and a bit of rather tasty bread had been passed around (and the rain had stopped, of course), it was time for the first course. We had the choices of filo-wrapped baked goat cheese with blueberries and honey or an heirloom tomato and green salad with more goat cheese and a meyer lemon vinaigrette. Here's a pic of Rachel's salad, but I went with the cheese.

The blueberries with as tart and firm as wild, but big enough to be domesticated; the honey was light and warm; the filo crisp. If it was filled with cream cheese this would have been a desert, but the slightly coarse, slightly savory taste of the goat cheese brought it back to the appetizer zone. It all tied together nicely, but the goat cheese could be a bit much over time and needed a powerful beverage to cleanse the palate. Unfortunately, I had chosen the red wine to go my main dish which would be entirely inappropriate for this appetizer so I had to make do with water.

Those aforementioned rude people at my table asked me to mention that their friend, allergic to cheese, was refused a special order of a cheeseless salad. They were quite indignant at this outrage and said that in all their time of eating at some of the best restaurants and touring some of the best kitchens in the world they had never encountered a chef so pretentious and inconsiderate. Seems to me that, under the circumstances, the staff had enough of a challenge just to get us served at all and no time to consider special orders which are out of line when at a special event with a pre-determined prix fixe menu such as this. As they had been throwing back the wine with some gusto, I think they were probably just impaired in judgment rather than natural full-time assholes so I'm trying not to judge them too harshly. There's your mention; happy?

So, on to the main dish which was a choice of grilled mahi mahi with sorrel crema, roasted potatoes and onion relish; braised rabbit with egg papparedelle; and pork chops with roasted root vegetables and sun dried tomato relish. Here's a shot of Rachel's pork chops, but I went with the rabbit. I didn't see the fish anywhere nearby so no pic of that.

The rabbit really wasn't what I expected from that brief description. I was thinking of hearty noodles tossed with falling-apart meat in a thick hearty (possibly tomato-based) gravy. Give me that description as a remit and that's what I would have made. It's certainly not the chef's fault that that's not what I got so I want to judge what she did prepare on its merits, but I've got to say if I knew what I was going to get I would have ordered the fish.

What I did get was hard to distinguish from something my mother used to prepare after making a big pot of chicken soup. She would shed the boiled-out meat, dice the mushy vegetables and add them back to the soup along with some egg noodles. I suppose this was probably rabbit soup and the noodles were fresh, but otherwise just about the same and I didn't care for it overmuch back then either. I'm not saying it was a bad dish--either Chef Volz's or my mom's--both are fine examples of what they're supposed to be. If I like my papparadelle thicker, my vegetables crisper and my meat retaining more character that's just me. Everyone else seemed happy enough with it. Donna Reno made a point of coming by the table to say she loved it. And who am I to say she shouldn't?

The wine, La Minota Pirorato D.O.C., was a big spicy red with lots of tannins and a long warm finish that would have been lovely with the dish I thought I was getting and not quite as good a match with what I actually got. Probably a good choice for the pork chops, though.

I forgot to mention earlier that Donna spoke a bit about future Slow Food Miami events and at this point in the evening Peter Rabino spoke about becoming a Slow Food Miami member and the non-dinner activities they do (which, in part, this evening was a fund raiser for, although I don't think anyone mentioned that). A much better job all around at branding than at previous events.

Finally, desert: lemon thyme ice cream over strawberries with cardamom shortbread cookies. I've attempted and failed to make lemon thyme ice cream myself.Although that failure was more because of the lavender I added than the lemon or thyme I was still quite curious to taste what Creek 28's kitchen would do with it. And I was impressed; they managed a nice balance between the herb and citrus notes without either or the combination becoming overwhelming. Must have taken a few tries to get that right. Of course, lemon, thyme and cream are all lovely with strawberries. As for the shortbread, I'm not much for the stuff so I'm not a good judge. Holly liked it quite a bit.

And that was that. Oh wait, one more thing. We each got as party favors Shea & Cedarwood organic soap nuggets from Verde, proprietor of which, Jennette Frances, was in attendance. Yes, that's a rustic lump of stanky soap. But stanky in a good way assuming you want your hands to smell like grandma's wardrobe.

So, overall, I think I liked this event and Creek 28 better in theory than in practice. Maybe it's just me. It's probably just me. Did any of you go? How did you like it?

Slow food stone crab picnic

Upon consideration I find that I haven't got a whole lot to say about the picnic (and upon checking I find I didn't have a lot last year either), so this is mainly going to be a photo essay.

Last year this was a solo Slow Food effort, but this year they partnered with Friends of the Everglades. Stone crabs don't live in swamps so I suppose it was more a marriage of convenience than anything else. I wish they had gone more thematic and had an alligator and nutria dinner or some-such. Instead we got a speech I couldn't follow and there were some mixed drinks that never showed up. I suspect the latter difficulty stems from a distinction in city parks between b.y.o.b. and supplying drinks to folks who paid for lunch. One of the silly-looking segway cops must have stopped by and put a stop to things.

But still, we got a nice lunch. The stone crab was supplied by Judy the Stone Crab Lady and her lovely assistant whose name I rudely neglected to inquire after.









They prepare the claws with this nut-cracker-esque device and dole them out in 1-pound bags. It's a rather slow process so the line-up at their table backed up quite a ways. They didn't get as much of a head-start on the cracking this year than last when the line stayed mainly under control despite a greater turn-out.







Here's my bag along with my demolition tools. They did a pretty thorough cracking job so I didn't need to use them much. As usual, the crab is tender and sweet and very reasonably priced at their booth.









Here's the menu of sidedishes from Mise en Place...


















along with my plateful. I think the sides were a nice step up from last year. In the one-on-one comparison of cole slaws, Mise's offering was substantially better because they bothered to purge their cabbage so it wasn't a stack of stiff, crunchy sticks.

I also quite liked the unbilled sweet avocado/radish/onion relish on the right side of the plate by the empanadas.

The shell of the empanadas had a good soft chew to them, but it's always a disappointment to bite into an empanada and not find meat inside. Or maybe that's just me.

In the back you can see that I brought along a few dipping sauces to try out with the stone crabs. Judy supplies the traditional mustard sauce, which really is quite good, but I found that avocado mayonnaise (with a judicious addition of vinegar-based hot sauce) was at least its equal. Try it and see for yourself.

Some time into the meal, Dona Reno got up and gave her usual intro to Slow Food speech. The AV equipment was cleverly adjusted to simulate the sound of announcements made in the next room over. I think the folks in the middle tables could hear her if they concentrated, but I was over at the edge near the playing children so I couldn't quite get it all. There was something about the Slow Food at schools program too, I think.













Then this guy, who the program says is Alan Fargo, talked a while about Marjory Stoneman Douglas. I know that she was an early supporter of Everglade preservation but I didn't catch why he was talking about her here and now. Aparently she liked Manhattans so we were supposed to toast her with them, but, as I said, although I watched them being poured they had vanished when the time came.

That's about it really. I finished my lunch and went home before my CSA share started to rot. I'll try to be a better reporter at the next event.

Slow Foods - Terra Madre and Piemonte dinner

Last night I went to a Slow Foods dinner held at Blu Pizza e Cucina in Mary Brickell Village. Beyond a good meal there were a couple reasons for the dinner: reports from, or possibly celebration of, the group delegates who were sent to the Terra Madre convention in Torino and a tour of the regional cuisine of the Piemonte region of Italy. Unfortunately there were audio issues so, from my seat in the corner, I could only catch little bits of all the announcements and speeches. From outside reading I know that Terra Madre covers your general Slow Food topics: sustainable agriculture, organic certification, GM foods, preservation of local foodways and ingredients and all that. The speeches I couldn't hear were pretty short so I don't think the delegates talked much about what they learned; maybe they'll write up a report of the Slow Food Miami website?

I did catch that either Blu's owner or chef is from Piemonte , but I didn't realize until I looked it up that Torino is in Piemonte (although the map on the back of the menu should have been a clue) which ties things together. I would have liked some explication of just how this meal ties into the whole Slow Food ethos: is Piemonte cuisine endangered? I know that Piemonte is known for its truffles so the meal is heavy with those. Are we using any other local ingredients? Anything local to Miami? Anything organic or fair trade or the like? How was this more than just a nice meal? Maybe that was all there but I couldn't hear it through the feedback and distortion.

What that leaves me with is the meal, so I ought to talk about that. Four courses, each with paired with a wine from Piemonte. I'm assuming that it was all straightforward traditional Piemonte dishes without a lot of chefly innovation so I'll talk more about preparation than conception. And let me apologize for the quality of the photos as usual. I thought I had plenty of light this time around but I guess not... It turns out the adapter I use to get the pictures from my phone to my computer is no longer working so no pictures until I get a replacement. ...OK, I've got a replacement and did a bit of adjustment to improve visibility. They're not great, but they're good enough to be useful so I'm putting in the pics.

First course was an antipasti trio: vitello tonnato, bagna cauda and polenta e fontina. That first one is thin slices of veal with a tuna-caper sauce. I've seen tuna sauces for meat before and have been skeptical of the idea. This dish was pretty much what I expected: it tasted of overcooked tuna and capers with the mild veal rather lost beyond adding its meaty texture. The shredded celery and carrot garnish helped balance it out, but you've had tuna sandwiches so you knew that.

The bagna cauda was served with a big platter of crudites, but with a communal bowl of the sauce and no serving utensils it was a bit tricky to deal with. Since it's just olive oil, butter, garlic and anchovies you have to make an effort to screw it up; this example could have used a little salt and could have been warmer, but those are just quibbles. One takeaway from this meal is that fennel is particularly good with bagna caude; I did not know that.

The third antipasti was a grilled corn meal polenta (are there other sorts?) with a couple stalks of asparagus on top, Fontina cheese melted over and truffle sauce (a wine reduction I believe) around and about. There's a strong funky, but not unpleasant smell from the sauce, but again the lack of serving utensils means actually getting some is problematic. The polenta is nicely prepared--fluffy with crispy bits from the grilling. I can never get it right myself. The sauce is a bit overpowering, but it works well with the Fontina so that's nice enough.

The wine is Gavi di Gavi, La Meirana, Broglia, a light, slightly sweet and flinty red. Not a bad choice considering all of the different flavors it had to pair with.

Next course is gnocchi con funduta e infusione di tartufo which even my non-existent Italian can translate into housemade potato gnocchi with a Fontina cheeses fondue and a white truffle infused olive oil. Or at least the general outlines of that. Nearly forgot to take a picture this time; the not-half-eaten plate looked rather nicer in a minimalist sort of way. The gnocchi is creditably made--feather-pillow texture, not the down-pillow light one occasionally encounters or the more common Tempurpedic lumps. Personally, I like the chewy outer layer, but maybe that's just me. The fondue to fairly delicate so you can taste the potato and the truffle brings out the earthy aspects of the Fontina nicely. That's takeaway number two: match Fontina and truffles. I thought the dish could use another element--a sprinkling of Parmesan was nice but didn't really amount to a full extra flavor component--to work as an independent dish, but this is just a primo piatto so it's doing what it's intended to.

The wine was Barbera d'Alba Damilano which was nice enough on it own--light crisp berries with a fast fade to a spicy afterimage on the palate--but was too strong to pair with the fondue.

Secondo piatto was trota ai funghi porcini a.k.a. rainbow trout draped over a truffe-potato gratin in a pool of baby Porcini wine sauce. The same wine sauce as the polenta, actually, I think. The trout is a nice texture--not quite flaky but not undercooked--and about as flavorful as you can expect from trout which means that it's completely overwhelmed by the sauce. But the sauce is aromatic with herbs and mushrooms and rich with wine and butter so I'm not complaining. That said, the star of the plate is the gratin. This is the first dish where the truffles are more than just punctuation. Their flavor is infused through the creamy cheese layers and really punches up the flavor to a level that potato gratin doesn't usually get to.

The wine is Barbera d'Alba, Damilano which is dry, round and full of tannins. I'd like drinking it on its own and it's big enough to stand up to the sauce but the two wipe eachother out of the mouth. It's alternation, not harmonious accompaniment.

Then came inaudible speaches from the Terra Madre delegates way across the room. I'd say at least they tried but I think this sort of thing does more harm than good. It's an interminable lull in the meal just when the roudier diners are getting drunk enough to give their own comical suggestions of what they might be getting at over there. We could catch enough that they knew these folks went to a conference but no idea exactly what or why. That sort of information is important to brand Slow Food dinners as something more than just a foodie event. There are non-members at every dinner who come in thinking Slow Food is a group of crockpot enthusiasts and relying on random people at each table to explain the philosophy seems an unreliable strategy.

Once all that was up, the dinner closed up with a doce: pannacotta alle castagne: chestnut pannacotta with Amaretto-creme anglaise. My favorite of the evening. First off, the pannacotta was actually creamy instead of rubbery. I don't think I've ever encountered one that didn't have an appalling texture before. To accompany that was a triple cookie topping: first a thick crumbly top (bottom while it was cooking I suppose) to the pudding, then a little spice cookie on top and on top of that what looks like a little piping of whipped cream is actually a tiny vanilla meringue cookie. I'm not usually a fan of that sort of trickery in food since it's most often cleverness to the detriment of flavor but this was a pleasant surprise and, oddly, one that most people at my table unknowingly left on their plate. As for the flavor, I'm not much of a fan of either chestnut or amaretto and, to tell the truth, the combination was rather bitter, but that's where the only really successful wine pairing of the evening came in. The wine was a Moscato d'Asti Marenco: syrupy sweet and sour and tingly on the tongue. I'd say it tasted of soursop if anyone would know what I was talking about. Fruity anyway and a synergistic combination with the dessert where the flavors played interestingly against one another with each new sip or bite.

And then everyone ran for the exits in fear of more incomprehensible speeches.

Overall, I'd say, foodwise, this dinner was more successful than not, particularly considering the knowledge I've gained about Piemonte cuisine. The big minus was the wine pairing for which it appears Vias Imports is to blame, not the chef. On the event side of things there's some room for improvement. And now that I've mouthed off about it I think I'm obliged to volunteer and get it right next time. I generally sit uncomfortably waiting for the mingling to die down before these things anyway so I might as well be making myself useful.

The Ramble

Today I went to the 68th annual Ramble garden festival at the Fairchild Tropical Botanic Garden. It wasn't too terribly different from the Mango Festival I attended there a while back. More arts and crafts and general ecological do-gooders and a wider variety in the plants for sale. Mostly the same food vendors though, which means I got to try some of the stuff I missed last time when I went to the Mango Brunch instead.


Here's some very nice Peruvian ceviche I had.


I'm of the entirely unsupported opinion that the best ceviche is sold at room temperature out of stalls without proper kitchens. It just stands to reason.


I picked up a bottle of Peruvian hot sauce while I was there, too. Ceviche is easy to make at home but you need the right condiments.

I also got a bottle of jerk sauce from another vendor. The bottle I picked up last time was disappointingly thin and chunky so it was hard to cook with. I hoping this will work a bit better.

I also got a couple new plants for the herb garden: sage and culantro. I haven't really cooked with sage, but I keep hearing good things about sage-butter sauces that I'd like to try. The culanto has the same flavor as cilantro, but, I'm told, is much easier to grow. It certainly looked far healthier than the cilantro the herb stall had on sale.

And I helped out at the Slow Foods stand, talking up the local chapter, handing out brochures and selling totebags. If any of you aren't familiar with Slow Foods, it's all about connecting farm to table and food to community, promoting heritage ingredients and techniques and the idea that food, both the production and the eating, is something important that should be approached thoughtfully. The totebags are attractive, roomy, and exceptionally sturdy with their extra thick canvas and double-stitched straps. I should have got a picture.

While I was at the stand we had a cooking demonstration by Begonia Tuya, owner and chef of Xixon cafe. I've mentioned occasionally before that that's my favorite place for tapas and Spanish ingredients but I didn't know that they were associated with Slow Foods at all. [I met Ms. Tuya a couple weeks ago when I was the first person to show up for the lunch seating. She talked me through the specials board. I've been slowly improving my Spanish vocabulary by ordering untranslated dishes there and seeing what shows up, but I appreciated the accelerated course.] She made gazpacho, which I would have gotten a picture of but I didn't get a good vantage point for the demo and was busy helping distributing the results. The recipe was quite straightforward--a good choice for a general public demo--and made use of ingredients that are grown locally, although I don't know if those were actually local cucumbers and tomatoes she use. Still, it was a good slow food-friendly choice. Lots of little garnishes in each shooter glass gussied it up nicely. I expected to like the fried serano ham bits best on general principles, but the little cubes of pepper actually did the most to elevate the soup.

Oh, nearly forgot, I also got a coconut. Free, of course. Coconut trees grow like weeds around here. Look at that pile.

What you pay for is for someone to open it up for you, but I want to try it myself. I've read up on the technique but the instructions usually say that you're going to screw up the first few. And that's with the proper tools; I haven't got a machete so I'm going to use my Chinese chef's cleaver. Watch for this exciting event a bit later.

Yeah, I know I didn't look at the art or the antiques or the gardening stuff so I missed out on most of what the Ramble is about. I assume so, anyway; I didn't do any research on the history of the thing.

I guess that's all I've got to say. It's still going on tomorrow (if you're reading this on Saturday). Worth a look-see if you're local.

Slow Food - Annual Members Dinner at the Standard

Some Slow Food dinners focus on a particular cuisine, some focus on the general Slow Food philosophy of local seasonal organic ingredients well-prepared, and some, like the Mango brunch three months back and last night's Members Dinner focus on a specific ingredient.

That ingredient last night was the Navajo-Churro sheep. There's a full information sheet here; the short version is that this is the breed of sheep brought to the Americas by the conquistidors in the 1600's, taken up by the Navajo, nearly lost during the Indian relocation and wars and restored in the 1970's. It's still a rare heritage breed but it's on its way back. According to the info sheet, it's not just of historical interest but also especially tasty. By the end of this post you'll know my opinion on that.

The Standard's chef, Mark Zetouni, prepared the sheep (technically mutton in this case, but he--or possibly Donna Reno, I don't recall--explained that the dividing line between lamb and mutton is by size and the particular sheep we were eating was a large one. According to this USDA glossary that's not true. I don't mind myself and as Donna also explained about the difficulty they had obtaining Navajo-Churro meat of any sort I think even those who prefer lamb wouldn't grouse about mutton instead. Still, I would have preferred to start my meal without a serving of bullshit.) three different ways in a sort of pan-Mediterranean cuisine standard for the Standard. In typical Mediterranean style, his usual menu avoids dairy and wheat (also handy for those attending the attached spa as those are both common allergies and common scapegoats in crackpot diet cures) and focuses on whole vegetables, seafood and olive oil. We didn't actually see much of any of those three last night, now that I think about it.

Before I get to the actual meal, I should mention that the Standard's restaurant is on a patio on the northeast corner of one of those dinky little islands in Miami Beach looking out over the water with the lights of the city in the distance. Beautiful in the twilight in a way that my crappy little phone-camera couldn't come close to capturing, so I'll spare you the pics. Worth a look for yourself, really.

So, first course: Mezze & Share.
Grilled Lamb (not really) "Kibbeh" (I don't know why that's in quotes; It seemed like perfectly legitimate kibbeh to me.) with tzatziki
Feta and Watermelon
Hummus, Baba Ganoush, Marinated Olives and a Greek Salad









That's the last of the light I used to take those photos. The rest were with a flash which may make them turn out better but also required me to annoy my tablemates. I did see several other people taking photos so keep an eye out for other bloggers talking about this meal.

Let's start with the kibbeh. It was a little dry. At this point I assume that it's supposed to be like that since every kibbeh I've ever eaten had that same texture. I liked that it had a bit of lingering spice to it, but you'd have to concentrate to tell that it wasn't ground beef and then you wouldn't be sure it was any special sort of mutton. The chef got it pre-ground so not his fault. I thought the little rosemary skewers were cute but I was a bit disappointed they didn't add any flavor.

The watermelon and feta wasn't bad. The feta was nicely salty, and since I like salt on my watermelon, it's not too surprising I thought the pairing worked well. Since it was a pretty mild watermelon, other than a bit of extra sweetness, it was hard to distinguish from a standard Greek salad using flavorless supermarket tomatoes. I didn't get much from the little slivers of what I assume was basil either. I'm curious if I could match both properly flavorful tomatoes and watermelon with feta in one salad.

The hummus/baba ganoush platter was standard stuff, adulterated slightly by the watermelon juice on my plate, and hampered by giving us crackers instead of pita. The pita is just as important a compenent as the dips in this sort of thing, I think. Really good olives, though.

With the mezze I had the 2007 Dr. L Riesling which I liked. It had a pink grapefruit balance of sweet and tart. It had a long finish but just that single note to play; simple but not at all unpleasant.

Next up the Main Course.
Turkish Sheep Curry
Quinoa Pilaf with Dried Apricot and Cherries and Fresh Parsley
Fennel Pollen Dusted Sheep Chops and Loin
Stewed Chick Peas
Short Grain Brown Rice with Roasted Red Pepper and Almond Nuts (not pictured due to being boring)

Hmm, the flash wasn't a fabulous improvement. At least you can see something, I suppose.

I don't know if I've had a Turkish curry before. Google isn't much help here as it turns up Turkish curry the spice, but not Turkish curry the dish. If there was any Turkish curry spice in here, there wasn't much as it was very mildly spiced--which is fine since the sheep is the focus here. Beyond the sheep and the gravy, there were some potatoes in there too. The sheep was flavorful, but in that washed-out long-slow-cooked stew-meat sort of way. That hid whatever virtues Navajo-Churro might have brought to the table but the texture was fine and at least I could tell that I was eating mutton. Again, it was pre-cubed when the chef got it so what was he going to do?

I found that the quinoa perked up the curry quite well, both the good chew and saltiness of a properly cooked grain and the sweetness of the dried fruit added some interest to the meat-and-potatoes of the meat and potatoes.

The stewed chickpeas were creamy and slightly firm as one would hope. They were interestingly but not overwhelmingly spiced--with fennel I think. Not a choice that would have occurred to me, but pretty good. I thought that would make it match well with the fennel-pollen-dusted chop but I can't say it did.

That chop was rare, just barely butter-knife tender (which was good as a butter knife was all they gave us. I had a second piece later which wasn't and since I couldn't very well pick it up and gnaw off a chunk at a civilized dinner I didn't get to eat much of it.) There was a light crust on the chop which was nice and there was one bite from somewhere in the middle that finally sold me on Navajo-Churro. There was a burst of a sweet, grassy flavor that was distinctively mutton but without any gaminess; just fabulous. But the rest of the chop was kind of blah.

And speaking of blah, the brown rice.

With this course I had the 2003 Michele Chiarlo "LaCourt" Barbera D'asti. Barbera is the name of the grape there and D'asti the region. No, I hadn't heard of them before, either. I'm having a tough time describing this wine. It's really very red-winey. Usually you can pick out cherries or chocolate notes or wood or flint or whatever. Maybe it's me but this just tasted like wine. Not notably sweet, no tannins, not really big but not subtle either, maybe a little bitter. Smooth, tasty but not easy-drinking. Donated and chosen by Korbrand and I think they did a fine job of pairing it with the meal.

And finally, the desert course.
Mushroom Cookies (Mantar Kurabiye)
Spinach Cake
Turkish Shortbread (Un Kurabiyesi)
Orange Biscuit (Portakalli Biskuvi)


I'm not sure the flash helped there at all. You can kind of see a mushroom-shaped thing in the lower middle. No actual mushrooms in it, disappointingly. It was a dry almond cookie that begged for an espresso. Do you see an espresso cup behind it in that picture? No, you do not. Not too bad with the wine, though.

Even more disappointingly, the spinach cake (on the right) actually did contain spinach. You could quite clearly taste it and I, at least, rather wished I hadn't. Even if it wasn't there, the texture was a gummy lemon-bar-gone-wrong. The chef mentioned that it was his first time trying the recipe and declared the results "interesting". That it was.

The Turkish shortbread (on the left), was straightforward buttery shortbread. Maybe a bit less crumbly than Walker's Scottish. That reminds me, I really must get around to making Earl Grey ice cream with bits of shortbread one of these days.

Finally, the highlight of the meal--bar that one bite of chop (and maybe a green olive from the mezze)--the orange biscuit. This was a sandwich with two soft sugar cookies around an orange cream center. The good bit was how the cream was bitter with orange zest and a lovely contrast to the sweet cookies.

I just did a quick search to confirm the ingredients in the orange biscuit and it looks like all of the desert recipes came from here. That's a mite disappointing and I'm not entirely sure why.

So, overall:
Navajo-Churry sheep: worth keeping around but cook it carefully and don't waste it in stews.
Slow Food dinners: always interesting, but not always a full success. And there's more to Slow Food than dinners; they do good work too. Go to http://slowfoodmiami.com and see what they're up to.

Slow food, stone crabs and farmers markets

As I mentioned in passing in my last post, I spent some time at the Coral Gables farmers market after picking up my CSA share yesterday. I picked up a few interesting items and attended a Slow Food stone crab picnic.

Personally, I'd call the Coral Gables farmers market and pretty good street fair, but with only a couple of produce stalls amongst the caterers, bakers and candlestick makers it's not quite a farmers market to my mind. And can anyone explain the appeal of a guacamole stall? Even if guacamole was hard to make, who wants some out of a giant tub that's been sitting out for the last four hours?

I had expected to make some rapid recipe decisions on my CSA share but this week's selection didn't require it. The only produce I picked up was a pint of strawberries which I'll probably end up eating straight instead of making the ice cream topping I meant them for. I also got a couple of rather impressive foccacia: one artichoke and one sun dried tomato. They definitely beat the wares of the foccacia vendor at the Union Square farmers market in Manhattan. I picked up a little bit of tea as well; I'm generally happy with Theine, but Kyra doesn't stock as good a variety of fruit green tea blends or candy-enhanced black teas as I'd like. I don't like the open bowls the tea and spice vendor stores his wares in, but I got there early so I don't think the tea lost too much zip. I picked up a caramel black tea and a blend called Sunny Sencha with a tropical fruit and flowers mixed in.

At Karen's Kreations I picked up Garlic & Raspberry Jelly and Cranberry & Chipotle Jelly. I've had garlic and hot pepper jellies before and while they're nice novelties it's hard to find real uses for them and most of the bottle ends up going to waste. The fruit additions Karen used makes them more than ingredients; they can actually be used as jelly. I have to carefully consider the next loaf of bread I bake to make the best match, though.

And, as I was running out, I got a jar of honey. I chose gallberry honey which is exceptionally light and should be good for tea. In the slightly blurry picture, you can see that the label looks quite similar to the Bee Heaven label on the honey I got in my share a few weeks back. So if Miguel Bode, who packed the gallberry honey, isn't associated with Bee Heaven, you guys ought to have a word with him.

After my shopping it was off to the picnic. There was a demonstration of a stone crab and avocado recipe by Chef Roberto Ferrer, but just as I sat down for it the head of Slow Food Miami, Donna Reno, shanghaied me into helping set up. (I wasn't surprised that she recognized me given my distinctive hat and the knack the heads of these sorts of groups tend to have for that sort of thing, but she remembered my name and knew where I worked which I knew I had never mentioned to her. It seems she noted my lack of sociability back at the Slow Food wine tasting in October, followed up by talking to the couple I had sat next to at the Ideas dinner and now has taken a particular interest in introducing me around and making sure I mingle. Is it so wrong that I'd prefer to eat my lunch in peace while reading a book?) Check the Slow Food Miami webpage for more pics likely including one of me mingling.

The picnic featured stone crabs supplied by Judy the Stone Crab Lady and sides from Chef Brendan Connor (left) and Kristin Connor who run a catering company called Whisk Gourmet. It was pretty good on the whole.

This was my first experience with stone crabs. Any local folks reading are probably familiar with the Miami tradition of gathering in public places to brutalize crustaceans with blunt instruments. I generally prefer to dismantle crabs in a more precise and considered manner, but just whacking away with a hammer makes some sense when it's just claws. (Stone crabs are caught in traps, de-clawed, and then thrown back to grow a new one which they can do several times. All very ecologically sound if you do it the proper way Probably nobody does as the wrong way is significantly faster and cheaper, but I'll assume the best of Judy the Stone Crab Lady until I learn otherwise. She seemed nice enough, anyway.) A pound of claws gives enough meat for lunch and, since it's particularly sweet and succulent crab in unusually large chunks, is definitely worth the ten bucks.

The sides were good but nothing too outstanding: a standard coleslaw, beets, a greek salad sort of thing, potato salad with bacon and key lime pie. The best was the beets although I would have liked to have identified the creamy white substance they were coated in. Personally, I thought they all (bar the pie) could have done with a bit more salt.

From what I heard, the picnic was a new venture for Slow Food Miami although I would have thought some presence at farmers markets would be one of the first things they'd try. It may have been too successful as it was overbooked in reservations so interested passers-by couldn't drop in and see what Slow Food is all about. But at least half of the people who did reserve weren't Slow Food members so there may have been some new interest there. Maybe not though; all of the events are open and announced to the public and there's no membership discount so you don't really get a lot for that extra expenditure.

Still, a good time was had by all (bar the crabs) and that's something even if nothing else was accomplished.