Feast Blog

A business trip in February to Beaverton, Washington brought me to the local eatery, Artisanal Bistro. Apparently it has since closed which saddens me, but I am still going to offer what was a lovely evening. Stylistically, it is reminiscent of a Parisian bistro with its bentwood, rattan-backed chairs, 1930s Art Deco styling, and giant murals. The space is large and while far from intimate, the waiters work hard to provide comfort and a very pleasant experience. The menu is seemingly staid and a throwback to the 1970s with its “classic” French offerings; Bouillaisse, French Onion Soup, and Escargots. There is no nouveau, California cuisine to be found here, but there is a perfectly enticing cheese counter near the bar area which beckons upon entry.

Dining with an old friend, we ordered to share and reveled in the nostalgia of a style of food I rarely encounter. To start, we shared a Beet Salad served with Endive and Spinach, Walnuts, and Humboldt Fog Cheese. Of all we tasted, this very well could have been the most “nouveau” of the entire meal. Generous slabs of cheese accompanied the well-dressed combination of greens and freshly roasted, ample beets. Here was a delightful opening which provided an excellent precursor to the Soup du Jour, a combination roasted chestnut and fennel, creamed together with single fried sage leaf and a small brunoise of foie gras to elevate the already unctuously creamy offering.

Our main entrées were ordered to complement one another; the Plats du Jour of Dover Sole Meunière and Duck a l’Orange. Although Dover Sole is traditionally fileted tableside by a server, here is was brought out pre-flailed and topped with fresh haricot verts, almond silvers, and capers. Fortunately the tail and fish head were left intact to allow for consumption of those delicacies. The fish was tender and moist, with the capers providing a necessary piquant contrast to the rich butter. The duck was equally as rich and tasted exactly like those I experienced when first my parents began taking me to “fancy French restaurants” in the early 1970s.

The true joy of the evening — and the biggest sadness about the restaurant’s closing — was the cheese. We had saved room specifically for the cheese and somewhat laughed when I asked our waiter for suggestions. It seemed he current favorites were all California cheeses. I wanted to experience locally-created cheeses and the in-house cheese monger came over and chatted with us for a bit to find out what our tastes were inclined towards. I advised that I ordered both a glass of Sauternes and Late Harvest Riesling to accompany and our cheese monger did more than accommodate. Hillis Peak is goat cheese made from Nigerian dwarf goats and is made from Pholia Farm, Oregon. A raw-milk cheese, it was tangy from a rubbing with oil and paprika. Red Darla, from Washington, was washed with red wine and produced a pungent, soft, and well-balanced offering. The killer cheese of the evening was Rogue River Blue, also from Oregon. Wrapped in grape leaves and macerated in pear brandy, this was one of the creamiest and intensely fruity blue cheeses I have ever experienced.

I regret I did not write this up in a more timely fashion – perhaps to have encouraged more patronage. It was a very memorable evening.

Six weeks ago, I got a text message from Lisa stating simply, “Just found us a new restaurant!!!!!!” That means a lot because both Lisa and I have become bored dining around San Francisco. She was excited at having found an establishment that is like those she discovered while traveling around Japan; authentic, intimate, and unlike anything else we have here in the Bay Area. There is a sign in the front window that warns the philistines: No Sushi. No Combination Plates. This is not your standard, Westernized Japanese restaurant. With an expansive ten-page menu, this is a restaurant based on the concept of lots of small plates. Not like an izakaya with a bar setting, the dark wood room is effectively serviced by attentive waiters and waitresses who are quick to offer suggestions.

The reason behind the lengthy menu is its layout; each ingredient with the descriptions of how that ingredient is prepared. For example, Gindara (black cod) has eight preparations: sakamushi (steamed with sake), oroshi-ni (simmered with grated daikon), teriyaki, yuan-grilled (soy sauce and sake marinade), sakekasu-grilled (sake less marinade), butter grilled, and panko-fried. With ingredients like eel, pork, duck, beef, chicken, shrimp, eggplant, tofu, krab, flounder, etc., it is easy to see why the menu is so extensive. And that does not include the fact that there is also shabu-shabu and sukiyaki offerings (with Wagyu beef for $80!). That’s okay, we’ll be back for those because there is so much to try…

With the help of our waitress, we managed to pick a selection of tastes, starting with a special that evening, toro sashimi served with fresh wasabi. More than just exceptional fish, the plating and offering was a cut above with shredded daikon and an interesting micro green served alongside the wasabi. Some of the best, melt-in-the-mouth tuna I have tasted. Being an uni fanatic, the preparation that Lisa wanted was served in a bowl with crab, an agar sheet, shredded vegetables, sliced chestnuts, and more than we could determine. It was clean and engaging with more gelatinous goo added for texture.

Another texturally-challenging dish (for those who have problems with gooey things — which Lisa and I don’t), was Mekabu-Su, vinegared sticky wakame (seaweed) topped with a raw quail egg. Served in a small, celadon green lotus bowl, here was a mouthful of viscous goodness. A dish we probably would not have considered had our waitress not been so passionate about suggesting was the butter-grilled scallops; four large, tender scallops in nothing other than simple brown butter. But the preparation was enhanced by its offering on top of a selection of grilled vegetables; sprouts and greens which were a delightful juxtaposition to the intensely rich scallops.

Another surprise was an offering of grilled oysters with egg yolk. It was actually a fresh grilled oyster encased in an omelet-like preparation, topped with toasted pine nuts and a sliced, crisp lotus root. We had debated ordering the chawan-mushi and was glad we didn’t; this was more than enough rich egg flavor which was definitely enhanced by the pine nuts. Best of all, they were very careful to not lose any of the oyster liquor in the preparation.

We finished our meal with their preparation of Japanese sweets, wagashi, three small offerings of delight; two red-bean based. The square wagashi was topped with lightly toasted rice bits and stuffed with a chestnut. The round, azuki-based wagashi was topped with a square of gold leaf and stronger than the square version. The last, round delight was an anmitsu, a chilled gelatin with fruit; large, golden raisins, orange peel, and a surprisingly different hint of celery which provided that surprise flavor.

Much of the joy of this type of dining is a sensation that many Westerners seem to miss: TEXTURE. There are complaints about some dishes not having enough TASTE when the cultural bias in Japanese food is often about the feel versus a strong flavor. That is not to say that there is no flavor to the courses, but that many times the dish is not about presenting a strong component of tastes, but a strong component of texture. And if you are willing to experiment and enjoy all that is offered, I can guarantee a stupendous experience. Personally, with a menu as expansive as Kappou Gomi is offering, I am anxious to go back and work my way through all of it.

My old friends are well-seasoned in the ritual of my annual Cassoulet. The ritual is simple; once a year, the duck fat flowing in my veins runs thin and like a fine automobile requiring its regularly scheduled quarts of oil, my body begins its craving for this unctuously rich dish, redolent with duck confit, over three pounds of pork products, duck fat, and Tarbais beans. I have written in the past how I came about using my favorite recipe, Paula Wolfert‘s Toulouse-Style Cassoulet. It takes three days to make. It is a labor of love. I have to order specialty ingredients from a local importer, Joie de Vivre. I soak my beans and season my pork. A ragout is made a day in advance and the beans and duck and pork products are layered in the specially-designed bowl by Clay Coyote and baked for several hours.

Fearing my guests won’t have enough to eat, I supplement the evening’s offering with cheese and wine, crudité and charcouterie, stuffed mushroom caps and goat-cheese filled endive studded with port wine- and spice-soaked dried figs and candied pecans, an Alsatian onion tart and caviar. There were desserts and friends. Yes, the evening is truly all about the warmth of sharing the goodness of the richness of great food with the richness of true friendship.

I have truly fabulous friends. They brought the wine; some bubbly to start the evening with, a Moet Chandon Champagne. But then the magic: Without being told it was traditional, every one who brought a bottle, contributed that special juice which is traditional with cassoulet, a California Pinot Noir or a French Burgundy (they are the same grape, after all). From California, we reveled in an ’07 La Crema from Sonoma, an ’06 Domaine Alfred Chamisal Vineyard from Edna Valley, an ’03 Marimar Estate Don Miguel Vineyard from the Russian River Valley, and a very special ’98 Olivet Lane Estate, also from the Russian River Valley. That ’98 Olivet was a close companion with the French ’95 Blagny La Piece sous le Bois.

There has been requests for a second bowl this very cold, wintery season. The fact that San Francisco is experiencing unseasonably cold weather might demand an encore; several friends have considered chipping in for the ingredients, only to divide up the portions for T.V. dinners (it freezes VERY well and I have been known to go through the effort of a second production just for the left-over factor). I was to create a second go-around. In making the ragout for the cassoulet, I was left with a quart or so of the seasoned broth. Not wanting any of it to go to waste, I seared up a few Italian sausages, sautéed some mirepoix with pancetta, and recooked the broth with some Rancho Gordo Yellow Indian Woman Beans. Heartier than the creamy Tarbais beans, the second version of the cassoulet was in some ways, more satisfying than the first — but maybe because I got to relish these leftovers over a few days in the quiet of the apartment without all the pageantry. Just a good friend stopping by for lunch, a mug of eggnot latté, and the cat who knows he gets to lick the bowl when I’m done.

There is no irony in the fact that what could be considered my most memorable Los Angeles meal in recent history was not spent with a fellow foodie. I wanted to go somewhere special with Tony, who was my childhood friend and easily one of the most influential people in my early life. We hadn’t seen each other in over 27 years so it was important for me to find a restaurant that would be indicative of great Los Angeles food, offer a wide selection, and that was near to the L.A. County Museum of Art, where we met prior to dinner. The irony is that Tony didn’t care for much of the food at all — but that is no reflection on AOC whatsoever. Tony is a guy who genuinely prefers Dennys. Oh well. Besides being an amazing evening with an old friend, it gave me some astounding left-overs for my few days at the Santa Monica Civic Auditorium.

Right off the bat, we ordered the largest cheese plate possible, five cheeses for $25; Besace du Berger (goat), Vermont shepherd Major Farms (sheep), Sottocenere Veneto Italy (cow), Casatica di Bufala Bergramo Italy (buffalo), and Bayley Hazen Jasper Hill Farm Vermont (blue). An exceptional selection which was loved by me and nibbled at by Tony. Well, he at least likes cheese.

For the main courses, I ordered for us to share the Duck confit and shell bean stew with ham hock, Clams, sherry, chanterelles and garlic, and a salad of apple, persimmon, pecans, and Roaring 40s blue. I also couldn’t resist a side of farro and black rice with pinenuts and currants. There is no way I could pick one favorite dish over another, but writing this now — a few weeks later — the taste of the clams and chanterelles still haunts me. From the wood-burning oven and served in a cast-iron skillet, I can’t recall ever having received such unctuous shellfish served thus with mushrooms before. So rich and with the crusty toast to sop up the garlicky sauce, even Tony appreciated the sauce without being a fish eater.

I thought he would like the duck, but it was too rich for him. For me, it was a great example of how to elevate a cassoulet knock-off. Served with the creamy beans and tender duck, were finely turned and fresh root vegetables. Granted, I only had a few bites when the dish was served hot, but it made for a great cold dish the following day and I could sense how well prepared the dish really was. The fresh salad was completely consumed by both of us, clean apples and bright persimmons. Also, the farro and wild rice was probably unnecessary during the course of the meal (except that I loved it), but was also an exceptional left-over. Perfectly seasoned and not a mis-step during the course of the meal.

Now I will give Tony points for having a sweet tooth and we shared an Ibarra chocolate cake with spiced pepitas and dulce de leche ice cream. If only I could have had left-over of this as well. Obviously prepared to order, the spiced pepitas made a warm chocolate cake on a different level; rich, yes — but moreso than just a good, warm chocolate cake. The dulche de leche ice cream provided a creamy counterpoint; a bit sweeter than than dark cake.

A word on service; we were seated in a smallish room upstairs, away from the main dining room. It could get a little loud, especially when the bridal shower at a nearby table got a bit more rowdy than desired. But we stayed well beyond the time when anyone else was seated in the room and the service continued to be superlative. They guided me on the dishes that I would be taking with me, since I did not have refrigeration. Everyone, from the bussers to the waitress, were excellent.

The return from India of my beloved friend, Lisa, was not only a reason to celebrate, but also very timely as she is one of the few friends who is more culinarily adventurous than I am.  She had actually sent me an e-mail from India that Chef Cosentino would be recreating his Iron Chef meal at Incanto. I’ve been chatting with Lisa about eating at Incanto for over a year so this special offering was more than timely! The special menu is only being offered on specific days for a short time through December.

When we arrived at the restaurant, we were brought back to the famous Dante Room. As it only holds a little more than a dozen people, I made the assumption that everyone in the room that evening would be dining on the special menu and was surprised to later that Lisa and I were the only ones that evening eating the special offering! I brought along a Château Duhart-Milon-Rothschild, 1975 Bordeaux for the meal. We had a fabulous sommelier who had to muscle through a cork which was not easily extracted. Per his recommendation, the bottle was decanted, he cleaned out the original bottle with some house wine, and poured the decanted wine back into original bottle so that it would not open up too quickly. I offered tastes all around and it was agreed that it was a stunning bottle; redolent with molasses up front with subtle integrated spice. It was elegant and complex and we were not prepared for how stunning a pairing it would be for our meal.

First Course – Lamb Heart Tartare. Hands-down, this was the winning dish with the wine; with a bit of capers and herbs, one of the richest, most satisfying tartares I have ever had. What a fabulous start.

Second Course – Financziera Piedmontese – Cockscombs, Duck Bits, and Riso. Neither of us had ever eaten a cockscomb before and this was one of the ingredients we were both looking forward to. It was gelatinous and chewy without being tough. The duck bits included some testicles which were tender. The sauce was light and studded with lemon zest and thinly sliced garlic.

Third Course – “Turf & Surf”; Tripe and Clam. For this course, the sommelier recommended a glass of white and we were served a 2007 Anthìlia Donnafugata. My knowledge of Italian wine is extremely limited but we found this offering clean and enticing without being strident. There was a richness in well-integrated fruit that complemented the dish; a delightful combination of long strips of tender tripe and bits of clams. I’m not sure if it was crudo or not, but it was served crudo style with an elegant, light dressing.

Fourth Course – Country Fair Gut Fry. With a bit of whismy and wit, we were served a paper cone filled with deep-fried sweetbreads, chitterlins, and fresh chanterelles with two sides, a spicy red sauce that was too spicy for me, and a creamy aïoli with herbs which was my preference. Not sure which bits we liked the best; my first taste was of a chitterlin but following it up with a fresh chanterelle was thrilling. Then to savor a crisp sweetbread and I was in fried bits heaven.

Fifth Course – Pig’s Trotter with Bacon and Tarragon. We were getting really full and worried with the realization that the two of us could easily have shared a single order of the bounty of food we were being offered. Then the pig’s trotter arrived and we were floored. The trotter was mounted over a poached apple which sat atop some bread cubes, bacon, and fresh tarragon. The apple was an inspiration to add a crisp tonality to the intensely rich sauce-stoked bread. A truly stunning dish that was my stand-out of the evening.

Sixth Course – Calves’ Liver and Kidneys. We were definitely on the other side of being way too full at this point as our to-go packages were piling up. But a few bites were had as the two were offered with separate accompaniments; the calves’ liver was served on a compote of spicy, shredded beets and the kidneys on yellow lentils. The two were a bit too disparate for my tastes and surprisingly, both meats were tougher than anticipated. It was my first calf kidney so I am unsure how “toothy” they can be, but I was surprised that the well-prepared liver was as hearty as it was.

Dessert – Yuzu Sorbet. Finally, to cleanse our palate, a tangy, bright sorbet and an after-meal visit by the Chef to see how we liked the evening’s menu. He was incredibly gracious and I expressed my surprise that Lisa and I were the only two eating the sumptious meal that evening. Throughout the evening, I had the bird’s eye view in to the kitchen and was able to watch his attentiveness and determination. It was an amazing meal and is completely inspiring to me to gather a bunch of friends to order Fifth Quarter meals in the future. There is nothing more exciting than to revel in the genius of Chef Cosentino and we San Franciscans should be very proud of his endeavors.

Lastly, apologies for the low-light iPhone photos. I didn’t want to disturb the others in the Dante room with flashes.