Feast Blog

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.

I had a lot of dining recommendations for my trip to Scotland, but The Kitchin is the one I was looking forward to the most. Of my entire U.K. expedition, this was one of the two most memorable meals (the other being a grouse dinner I have yet to write up). A stunningly glorious meal as I am still recalling the most amazing razor clam I have ever tasted…

Dampierre 1er Cru Cuvée des Ambassadeurs, Champagne, France N/V

Amuse – Cauliflower soup with apple and crème Fraiche. A simple way to start a meal, but already showing bold moves to put a crème fraiche in a white, creamy soup. One would anticipate too similar textures being boring, but it was anything but. So often a cream of any vegetable soup tends towards the grainy, but this was absolutely perfectly smooth with a subtle base of coriander and the crème fraiche was not a hindrance in any way. The single beet root slice was eaten almost immediately and I regret not savoring it more slowly with the rest of the soup.

Dry Riesling Donhoff, Nahe, Germany, 2007
Razorfish (Spoots) from Arisaig, served with diced vegetables, chorizo, and lemon confit. Largest razor clam I have every seen; eight inches at least in length. It was studded with the smallest brunoise I have ever experienced with only the bites of razor clam being slightly larger than the vegetables. I had initially dismissed any additional servings of bread as I did not want to fill up, but in experiencing the elegance of the creamy lemon confit beurre blanc, I requested more bread to get every drop. It was that good.

Chardonnay Swamp Reserve, Hawkes Bay, New Zealand, 2006
Snails & Bone Marrow – roasted bone marrow served with sautéed snails from Devon, Iberico ham, and Scottish grolles with quail egg.
As with the razor clam, I was astonished at the size of the serving. In this case, the marrow was served “open face” with all the marrow easily accessible under the unctuous offering of snails, quail egg, and ham. My only complaint on the dish was that only a small toast bit was offered to scoop up the ample marrow, but I still had some bread left so all was fine. Intensely rich, the snails were not at all chewy with the addition of the Iberico ham being the only non-Scottish ingredient in the dish. Rich and satisfying, I knew I had to start pacing myself based on the confluence of flavors being presented.

Trimbach Gewurtztraminer, Alsace, France 2006
Pig’s Head & Langoustine, boned and rolled pig’s head, served with roasted tail of langoustine from Anstruther, and a crispy ear salad.
Inside was pork cheek and on top, fried pig ear. Bringing it all together was a collection of wilted lettuce greens, a creamy sauce akin to the most decadent tartare, and a rich circle of sauce. The langostine was perfectly cooked with no hint of being either under cooked and flabby or overcooked and hard. The thin layer of fried slivered pigs ears provided a great salt and textural crunch to the richness of the pig jowl.

Pinot Noir Hautes Cotes de Beaune, Domaine Delagrange, Burgundy, France, 2006
Poached halibut from Scrabster, served with ink pasta and a samphire sauce. I have to admit that I am not sure what samphire sauce is. With bits of saffron, I can honestly say I have never had a more stunningly perfect hunk of halibut. The “asparagus of the sea” bites were a bright juxtaposition of crunchy delight next to the tender and smooth fish and vegetables. Hints of saffron brought the dish together.

Mourvedre Yalumba, Borassa Valley, Australia, 2007
Venison – saddle of roe deer from Humbie, served with pumpkin, celeriac, roasted apple from Moira’s garden, and pepper sauce. A rather classic example of a protein offering with a root vegetable puree, a few slivers of vegetable that are fried to offer a crunchy texture, and some wilted greens. So incredibly tender

Mas Ameil, Maury, France, 2007
Cheese; Gabietou (ewe), Trappes (walnut cheese), Mont Briac (South France), Criffel (Dumfries), and Ealisa Craig (goat). Gorgeous cheese cart and points on being offered a wide selection of Scottish cheeses.

Recioto Della Valpolicelloa, Tommasi, Italy, 2006
Dark chocolate tart with served figs, chestnuts, and port ice cream. A perfect culmination to a fabulous evening. I have gotten tired of U.S. restaurants feeling the need to offer two and three desserts. One is fine for me and this was neither too sweet nor too heavy. I am only used to California figs and these Turkish offerings are milder and fatter.

A note on service; the waiters and waitresses are definitely international – from Australia, Barcelona, and France. They were young, energetic, and provided impeccable service without being over-bearing. I had to laugh that two or three times my napkin slid off my lap to the floor. Before I could realize it, a brand new cloth was offered even though the “dirty” one that had hit the floor would have sufficed. The room is elegant and modern. I am glad I had an early seating for a Friday night, there were two large parties which arrived at 8:00ish made the room rather loud. But I have found a reason to return to Edinburgh to eat Kitchin’s stunningly brilliant food.

I am getting awfully jaded; every time I visit Ubuntu restaurant, with the exception of the signature cauliflower cast iron pot and the lavender almonds, I am served a varied assortment of new and breathtaking dishes. This weekend’s adventure took place with two girlfriends, both of whom thought we were stopping at a vegetarian restaurant “for a light salad.” I love blowing people’s minds…

We started with all of the “bites:” Castelvetrano olives marinated in mizuna pesto, chickpea fries with herbs and piquillo romesco, and marcona almonds with lavender sugar and sea salt. The chickpea fries were delicate and light – crisp and crunchy on the exterior and light and fluffy on the inside and the pesto concoction on the massive olives reeked of bright freshness.

Thus began the onslaught of delight from Chef Jeremy Fox’s kitchen… First up was a salad of fingerling potatoes, lightly
smoked sauce gribiche, ficoide glaciale, black garlic, capers. The last potato salad I had at Ubuntu was almost a year ago and was made with purple potatoes and the progression of Chef Fox’s skill depicted in a simple potato salad is impressive. I’m not sure if a year ago, their garden was producing the exciting offerings which now show up in the dishes like the bright and crunchy Ficoide Glaciale that is in this potato dish.

Our next offering was a “soup” of winter squash and courgettes served with tomato consommeé (poured after the photo was taken) with avocado cream, miniature tomato “raisins”, squash, and a few dots of concentrated balsamic. This was an elegant combination of so many flavors that melded together so serenely and expressively.

I love the kitchen’s offering of “Today’s Leaves and Things (amaranth, figs, apples, plums, tomatillos, pansies) dressed lightly with regina olive oil, mustard and sea salt. This dish is the perfect example of opulent freshness; served on a paper-thin crisp of brik, the combination of fruits and vegetables juxtaposes the richness of the soup we just consumed by the raw experience of pure freshness.

I don’t have an exact description of the next offering other than it was a melange of carrots to astound the taste-buds… With a hint of vadouvan spices, there were a cluster of large, braised chunks of carrots, quenelles of carrot mousse, delicate spears of fresh carrots from the garden, a bit of carrot foam, and a sprinkling of flower petals. Stylistically, the colors and composition made this one of the most beautiful, Van Gogh-like displays of food I have ever seen. Flavor-wise, one cannot imagine that so many different taste components could be provided by a single ingredient. It was hard for me not to lick the stone tile it was presented on.

The ubiquitous cauliflower in a cast iron pot arrived next and my friends were in a true state at this point. Both had tried to dismiss me ordering this dish as they claimed to “not care for cauliflower,” but impressed as everyone else has ever been with this unctuous, creamy offering.

What came next was beyond revolutionary and revelatory. One of my guests for this lunch was beloved friend, Leisl, whose Scottish heritage has her instilled with a deep and abiding love of lamb and potatoes and blood sausage. Health concerns have brought her to vegetarianism which was why I was so happy to share with her my favorite restaurant. What arrived next was Chef Jeremy’s version of Boudin Noir and there are few words to describe the synchronicity of this particular dish being offered on this day when Leisl was visiting, nor the actual tears of joy she experienced in tasting a vegetarian version of something she had so desperate missed. In a cast iron skillet was a layered confit of root vegetables and onions on top of which sat the “boudin noir” of rice, apples, root vegetables, vinegar and black pepper. As opposed to fake meat masquerading as a sausage, here there was simply a combination of flavors prepared in such a way to give a transcendent offering which when tasted, if one closed their eyes, would not know it was NOT a true blood sausage. Garnished with a quenelle of mashed potato and a poached egg, Leisl had to actually stop the lunch and begged our indulgence while she called her husband to share in the joy. We were all blown away.

Our next offering was a dish that my other guest, Kat, had specifically requested, local polenta finished with corn pudding, padrons, okra, green tomato relish, and amaranth. Creamy and rich, the polenta was studded with kernels of fresh corn and was brightened with the fresh roasted peppers and okra.

Thinking the polenta was rich, we had no comprehension of just how decadent and rich could be until the homemade macaroni and silver mountain white cheddar cheese arrived. Creamy and rich, the pungency of the cheese juxtaposed the creamy goodness on the tongue.

We were going to have them cancel our last course as we were getting beyond full, only to learn it was already fired and on its way; the homemade pizza with sauerkraut, emmenthal, purple mustard, with apples, garlic confit, and caraway all served with a poached egg in the middle. I have never had a sauerkraut pizza before and would never have thought it possible that something so seemingly innocuous could be such a mind-blowing experience. The addition of the poached egg provided a bright sauce to the deep, rich flavors of the kraut.

For the first time, I really had to insist that we couldn’t order dessert. As sad as I was to not have a smidgen of Deenie’s scrumptious offerings, there was quite simply no room left. I have to say that the innovations and offerings coming out of Fox’s kitchen are beyond comprehension to me. Every time I ask if there is a thought of a cookbook and then I wonder how he could possibly have the time; the menu seemingly changes so often that there must be several thousand of dishes in his arsenal now and how he could narrow down to a few hundred for a book would be quite an unenviable task. But, oh, am I ever hoping for one…