Roots Bistro Gourmand: Rustic Fare Meets Cutting Edge Gastronomy

Chef Philippe Corbet and Chef James Orlandi are shattering assumptions of what a restaurant “should be.”         

Olive Oil Poached Salmon with Fried Chick Peas

The co-owners of Roots Bistro Gourmand in West Islip, Long Island have deep respect for the roots of cooking, but aim to transform the traditional bistro experience using techniques of New Age gastronomy.   

Seared Sea Scallops with Wild Mushroom Mousse

Dining at Roots evokes the charm and flavors of French country cooking propelled into the future with gastronomic tools like foams, emulsions and vacuum sealing. In the words of Corbet and Orlandi, the Roots experience “juxtaposes high end cuisine with humor and accessibility.” 

Read my profile of Corbet  and Orlandi here in Edible Long Island’s Spring 2014 Innovation Issue.  

©2014 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

“The Farmer’s Kitchen” – A Cookbook by Julia Shanks and Brett Grohsgal - And a Giveaway

If you’ve ever found yourself flummoxed by what to do with the mind-boggling variety of fresh produce available at the farmers’ market or through your CSA, Julia Shanks and Brett Grohsgal have created a manual just for you. The team has published the cookbook “The Farmer’s Kitchen: The Ultimate Guide to Enjoying Your CSA and Farmers’ Market Foods.” The book draws on their years of experience in professional kitchens and on the farm.

Julia is a chef and consultant to restaurants, farms and food producers. She also authors the blog “Grow, Cook, Eat” where she chronicles the culinary creations that come from her urban vegetable garden in Cambridge, Massachusetts. Brett worked in restaurants for nearly two decades and now runs Even’ Star Organic Farm in Lexington Park, Maryland. Their collective wisdom on culinary techniques and fresh produce has helped to create a highly targeted guide with dozens of seasonal recipes that maximize freshness and flavor.

Julia Shanks is a chef, consultant and food blogger

Julia and Brett realized that people were often challenged by the variety of vegetables and the amount of produce they receive as part of a CSA share.

“I don’t subscribe to a CSA,” say Julia. “I rely more on my own garden and the farmers’ market, but the perennial complaint that I hear is, If I get another &*$%$% bunch of Swiss chard, I’m going to scream.”

Julia says CSA members often struggle with “hard to use” veggies or even some vegetables that they don’t even know where to begin – like Kohlrabi. Even the more benign vegetables like cucumbers can become overwhelming when you get three pounds for three weeks in a row, and home cooks need help coming up with new ideas and long-term storage tips to manage the bounty.

“This book was designed to help the consumer navigate through the diversity and abundance of the produce available,” she explains. “We wanted people to have a guide for all the wonderful - and sometimes weird - foods that farmers grow.”

Brett Grohsgal manages Even’ Star Organic Farm in Maryland

Brett had already created a CSA cookbook for his subscribers in Maryland as a way to help educate them about the produce he grows and give suggestions on how to use it. As a farmer, he most valued how the cookbook not only simplified the communication with his customers but also promoted loyalty. The team thought that other farmers would appreciate such a tool as well.

“The Farmer’s Kitchen” contains A to Z descriptions of a large variety of vegetables, greens and herbs as well as storage tips and shelf life advice to assure optimal freshness. Brett says even some of the more basic tips – like storing mesclun in Tupperware with a moist paper towel – are so important, yet aren’t taught in cooking school.

"The Farmer’s Kitchen” also bursts with more than 200 simple recipes utilizing culinary techniques that bring out the best in local, seasonal produce. Julia says one of the bigger challenges in assembling the book was taking their professional culinary experiences and distilling that knowledge into accessible recipes and tips.

“Between the two of us, we have 35 years of professional cooking experience,” she says. “It was important to translate “chef-speak” into “normal-person-speak.”

Julia says the recipes have the distinct personalities of the co-authors.

“For me the most surprising and fun recipes were Brett’s,” she says. “I made the “Savory Vegetarian Greens with Potatoes” (page 132) for the first time skeptical that it would be bland and boring. I ended up really loving this dish and have made it countless times since.”

Brett’s favorites are the squash blossom recipes (pages 215 – 216), the Stuffed Peppers (page 178) and the Watermelon and Goat Cheese Salad (page 251).

At its core, “The Farmer’s Kitchen” reflects the co-authors’ deep passion for the glories of eating seasonally.

“We hope people will learn that there’s really great food to be found at the Farmers’ Markets and CSAs, to be more adventurous at the farmers’ markets, and take advantage of all the wonderful foods that farmers’ grow,” says Julia.

I prepared the following recipe from “The Farmer’s Kitchen.” When pan roasted, the sliced Brussels sprouts were so rich and savory, I almost couldn’t stop eating them!

Quinoa with Roasted Brussels Sprouts - courtesy of “The Farmer’s Kitchen” by Brett Grohsgal and Julia Shanks

½ cup quinoa
½ pound Brussels sprouts
2 tablespoons olive oil
3 cloves garlic, sliced thin or chopped
½ lemon
Salt and pepper to taste
Optional: ¼ cup toasted, slivered almonds

Rinse quinoa under cold water. Put in a small sauce pot and cover with water. Add 1 teaspoon salt. Cover the pot and cook over medium heat for 10 minutes, or until quinoa has popped and is cooked through.

Meanwhile, cut Brussels sprouts in half and then slice thin.

Heat a large skillet over high heat. Add the olive oil, and let heat for 1 minute. Add the garlic and cook for 3 minutes or until aromatic. Add the Brussels sprouts and cook, stirring regularly, until they are bright green and soft. Remove from heat.

When quinoa is cooked, drain excess water. Toss with Brussels. Add juice from ½ lemon and season to taste with salt and pepper. Stir in almonds, if using.

If you’d like to receive a copy of “The Farmer’s Kitchen: The Ultimate Guide to Enjoying Your CSA and Farmers’ Market Foods,” leave a comment on this post between now and Saturday, March 19th at 11:59 p.m. EDT, and tell me about your favorite vegetable from the farmers’ market or CSA. One winner will be chosen at random and announced, appropriately, on Sunday, March 20th, which is the first day of Spring. We can only ship within the United States.

©2011 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

Teaching Kids to Appreciate Food – Andrew Kaplan of Yum-o!

Andrew Kaplan is Director of Rachael Ray’s Yum-o! non-profit organization.

“Food has an impact on everyone,” Andrew Kaplan tells me as we chat over coffee on a cold and dark winter evening in New York City. “Everyone’s got that story growing up – a smell they remember, a favorite dish their mother or father made, or a favorite restaurant in their town. It’s something everyone relates to and it brings people together.”

Growing up, food was central in Kaplan’s family. His father worked in the food industry and was a health enthusiast, and his mother got him involved in the kitchen at an early age.

“My mom was the chef of the family, so she always cooked, and I always watched her cook,” he says. “I’d sit on the chair and watch her, and help her stir and help her make something.”

Today, the CIA-trained chef creates familial connections to food for kids and parents across the country as Director of Rachael Ray’s Yum-o! foundation. Yum-o! has a three-part focus – Cook, Feed and Fund – with an overall mission of empowering kids and their families to develop healthy relationships with food and cooking.

Kaplan speaks thoughtfully about the work of Yum-o! There is a quiet tenacity and commitment evident as he talks about his work. At the center, is getting kids involved in the kitchen.

“That’s what got me interested in food. Let them stir a sauce, let them chop a little,” he says. “When you cook your own meal it’s healthier. You know what ingredients you’re using and what ingredients you’re putting into it.”

Kaplan has worked frequently with kids and he learned early on that ignorance about food and nutrition was complex and not simply defined by socio-economic factors. He recounts the story of a time – working in Miami – when he was preparing to take a group of underprivileged kids to a restaurant for a food experience they would not normally have. The owner of one establishment asked, “Why inner city or underprivileged kids? We’ve got the wealthiest kids in Miami right down the block and they don’t know crap about food.”

Sometime after, Kaplan was producing a cooking demonstration for Rachael Ray and they began talking about kids and food. Ray also started cooking at an early age, and grew up with a strong appreciation for the role of food in family life. “We had very similar visions and she expanded them more,” Kaplan says. Out of that discussion more than three-and-a-half years ago, Yum-o! took shape, and Kaplan moved to New York to start up the not-for-profit organization. The mission is extremely important to Ray. “Food is the way she gives back,” says Kaplan.

Issues of health and wellness in America certainly help to drive Yum-o! programming, but underlying it all is a steadfast belief that food is all about family and enjoyment.

“For us, it’s the joys of food and cooking – the fact that we’re motivated by it and we can share it with other people,” says Kaplan. “It’s making food fun for people, getting them into the kitchen, and in turn they’ll eat healthier and the obesity rate will go down.”

The philosophy extends to creating recipes where even the names inspire a smile. Kaplan cites Rachael Ray’s recipe for Buffalo Chicken Chili as a recipe with plenty of family-appeal that’s also wholesome, flavorful and easy to prepare. Fun recipe names get kids interested in cooking, get them involved in the kitchen, and get them to eat good food. There are hundreds of kid-friendly recipes available on the Yum-o! website, many contributed by members of the online community. There are also tips and tools, and stories about individuals and organizations making a difference through food and nutrition in local communities.

Yum-o! looks to reach kids where they eat. A partnership with the New York City Department of Education Office of SchoolFood focused on changing the image of cafeteria food, led to the creation of a delicious and nutritious Yum-o!-inspired lunch menu that was served last October in schools in all five boroughs. Nearly 700,000 meals were served to students and teachers who lined up for NYC Sizzling Soft Taco with Southwest Roasted Chicken and Corn Relish.

“This was a healthy meal that met the USDA and New York City SchoolFood guidelines, but they were so excited about it. That’s what food should be, food that kids get excited about,” says Kaplan. Plans are in development to work with other school districts in the future.

While cooking is the educational component, the Yum-o! platforms of Feed and Fund also address an overall relationship with food. Kaplan explains that there are over 13 million kids who go to sleep at night and wake up not knowing where their next meal is coming from. Yum-o! works to create awareness about the issue of hunger in America. He says the foundation has helped to feed well over a million people and Rachael Ray’s presence brings significant attention to the issue. “We’ve gotten letters from people that say I never knew the issue of hunger existed in America until I saw Rachael talking about it.”

Yum-o! also funds cooking scholarships for public school kids who aspire to a career in the food industry and has awarded nearly 30 scholarships for students who hope to cook professionally or manage a hotel or restaurant.

Kaplan has clearly found his calling and savors the organization’s power to transform. “I thought I had a lot to share and give back and teach people about food and cooking. One of the main ways that I wanted to make a difference was with kids.” He sees food and the dinner table as central to family life – a place where memories are created – and has set a scrumptious community table that allows him to share that experience with others.

“I still cook and love cooking, but I’d rather make a difference – serve if you will,” says Kaplan. “It’s changing lives one recipe at a time.”

Photos courtesy of Lisa Plotnik

©2010 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

The Grit and Wisdom of Chef Candy

Chef Candy Argondizza was my Chef Instructor at the French Culinary Institute in 2005

When the going gets tough and temperatures rise, my thoughts turn to Chef Candy Argondizza, my Chef Instructor at the French Culinary Institute during my La Technique sequence in 2005. Chef Candy had a bullet-proof exterior, Teflon hands and a heart of pure edible gold.

I think of Chef Candy every time I tackle a kitchen project.

The first morning I arrived at FCI, I was wondering what I’d gotten myself into. Twenty-two sessions in as many weeks, La Technique course taught the fundamentals of French cooking and was designed for talented amateurs. Well, the first thing I learned was that I wasn’t as talented as I thought, and I was definitely an amateur.

There were more than twenty students, and we were each issued a professional chef uniform, a portable portfolio of chef’s knives and our very own instant-read thermometer and wire whisk. Once outfitted, we were introduced to Chef Candy. She was petite, athletic and wiry with salt and pepper hair and a piercing gaze. I was absolutely terrified.

The first few classes were comparable to boot camp. We set up our stations and began to focus on chopping and knife skills. Chef Candy would stroll past my work station and scrutinize my technique. Immediately, she noticed that I was handling the chef knife too delicately, as if it were a magic wand. She showed me how to “choke” the knife at the base of the handle, and it instantly became an effective tool. Soon, I was learning how to surgically remove the gills from a fish. Sometimes, when I close my eyes, I can still see that fish staring up at me from the chopping block.

Early on, I developed some interesting psychological afflictions in the kitchen. I was craving the approval of Chef Candy. Whenever someone else’s entrée was trumpeted as an example of perfection, I was wracked with jealously and was determined to try even harder to get Chef Candy to notice my work.

After several weeks, I got my wish. I still shamefully refer to this as the “pea soup incident.” The topic was “Preserved Foods” and we were simmering split green peas with bacon, stock and bouquet garni for a recipe of Potage St. Germain aux croutons, or Split Pea Soup with Croutons. My soup pot had been simmering on the stove for some time. It was then that it happened. Chef Candy tapped me on the shoulder and said, “Bring your pot to the front of the class. We’re going to demo how to puree the soup.”

I was ecstatic. Finally, my food would be headlining a class demo! I grabbed my side towel and grasped the pot, falling into step behind Chef Candy as she headed towards the industrial strength blender. In my zeal, I lost my grip on the pot and it tumbled to the floor. Green slime went everywhere and it looked like the set of a Nickelodeon game show.

Chef Candy stood there with her hands on her hips, staring at the expanding soup puddle on the floor and shaking her head. Finally, she said slowly, “Get a mop. I guess we can still get one bowl out of what’s left in the pot.”

It was many weeks after that before I was once again chosen to do the class demo, and I never again picked up a heavy pot without a hand towel and one hand supporting it underneath.

Several of us chefs-in-training quickly banded together and became a cooking team. Lars was a lawyer, Carol was a mom and Serap was an engineer. We learned to understand each other’s strengths and rhythms. Serap was highly organized, Carol was meticulous and precise with a paring knife, Lars was fearless and gamely took on acts of kitchen bravery like flambéing and I seemed to excel at plating and presentation.

My fellow chefs at the French Culinary Institute

Over time, we became a highly efficient team and were so well-tuned that we were often able to produce more food under deadline than the other cooking teams. And, our team often earned the praise of Chef Candy. Well into our studies I was also thrilled and flattered when she took special note of my pastry skills.

There were certain slogans she would call out as we cooked, that I still hear today.

“Taste your food!”

“Season your food!”

“Clean as you go!”

“Hot plates for hot food, cold plates for cold food!”

“Listen to your food!”

She constantly reminded us that cooking is a total physical experience that demands use of all the sense. Proper technique was critical, meeting deadlines was expected, and food needed to look appealing on the plate. But, Chef Candy always took time to talk about the history of a recipe or share her personal favorites. She enjoyed simple, traditional dishes like Brandade de Morue (Puree of Salt Cod and Garlic) and confessed a great love for the grand Canard Roti a l'Orange (Duck with Orange Sauce).

Chef Candy celebrated failures and said that there was always something to learn from a culinary disaster. We would scrutinize flattened layer cakes, wilted sauces and scorched cuts of meat to learn how to do it better next time.

Chef Candy maintained that you will get cut and you will get burned, but you’ll know why. It’s usually because you didn’t handle a knife correctly, or you didn’t use a towel to pick up a hot pot. I quickly learned that nicks, cuts and burns are preventable, if you make a concerted effort to focus on your technique.

Classes were rigorous, but there was an underlying sense that you should always take time to savor what you’d created. In the end, that’s what cooking is all about. And, even when your Hollandaise sauce breaks, if you look it over and taste it, you’ll learn how to do it right the next time.

Our final La Technique class with Chef Candy was August 6, 2005. We were tasked with preparing an elaborate seafood feast of lobster, oysters, seas scallops, mussels and other delicacies. There were no recipes to follow. We were to use the knowledge and techniques we had amassed over the past 22 weeks.

Our team was assigned to scrub the oysters. Carol asked – only somewhat in jest – “Why is Chef Candy punishing us?” But, in fact, the less-than-sexy assignment was indicative of exactly the kind of teamwork that we had learned to embrace in the professional kitchen.

The feast was exhilarating. It remains one of the best days of my life, for the exquisite flavors, the camaraderie, the accomplishment and the celebration of all that we had learned from Chef Candy over many grueling weeks.

The final La Technique Class - August 6, 2005

I returned to the French Culinary Institute several times after for additional intensive course work with other instructors. Despite the fact that she worked with hundreds of students, Chef Candy always remembered me and greeted me warmly in the halls.

It’s been nearly five years since I spent time in Chef Candy’s kitchen, but I still think of her often and hear her wise counsel in my head, whether I’m preparing a simple supper, a layer cake or an elaborate dinner for eight. In my opinion, Chef Candy is the Top Chef of all time.

©2010 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

A Summer Feast, Foster Harris House-style

Blue hydrangeas embellish the table, stemware shimmers and candles flicker, casting an ethereal glow. Diane MacPherson puts a whimsical menu at each place setting and fills each wine glass with cold, crisp Sauvignon Blanc. This is the culmination of the visit to the Foster Harris House in Washington, Virginia - a singular dinner created by Chef John MacPherson, which fêtes the edible gifts of the summer season.

The menu unites the elements that inspire Chef John’s culinary muse – fruits and vegetables from the rich soil of Rappahannock County, surprising flavors, bold splashes of color and family traditions – with each plate artfully composed to entice the eyes and the appetite.

Grilled Halloumi and Roasted Beet Salad is a tangy offering of earthy red beets and salty cheese, charred on the grill.

A sunny Yellow Squash Soup takes on a touch of playful attitude, topped with a sassy swirl of parsley-mint pistou.

Cedar Plank Halibut with Lemon Tarragon Butter, Toasted Pine Nuts, Grilled Eggplant and Patty Pan Squash is Chef John’s re-imagining of “surf and turf” – glistening white fish, perched atop smoky eggplant and surrounded by neat wedges of summer squash plucked from the fields at The Farm at Sunnyside.

Mom’s Meatballs with House Made Tagliatelle is a MacPherson family classic, first created by John’s mom, Jan and served at the table growing up in Boston. The meatballs are presented on a nest of tender, fresh pasta ribbons and the rich sauce has a touch of sweetness from brown sugar balanced with just a hint of cinnamon.

The sweet finish starts with a prelude of Basil Mint Lady Grey Ice Cream a recipe created just for the dinner. Luxuriously-smooth ice cream is flavored with handfuls of fresh basil and mint, plucked from the kitchen garden at the Foster Harris House and accented with a perfumed kiss of Lady Grey tea.

Finally, individual Blackberry Frangipane Tarts with Vanilla Bean Cheesecake Ice Cream feature flaky puff pastry studded with plump, inky blackberries and glistening wineberries discovered at The Farm at Sunnyside.

We savor the sweet elegance of the tart and Diane and John join us at the table. The wine flows and we talk well into the night. We finish with a nightcap of Wasmund’s Rye Spirit, hand-crafted at the local distillery down the road – a fitting conclusion to a celebration of good company, edible Virginia and Chef John’s culinary gifts.

I visited the food and wine country of Virginia July 23 – 27, 2009.

©2009 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

The Chef’s Canvas

A succession of rectangular plates is arranged on the counter in the kitchen of the Foster Harris House, like a gleaming mosaic of perfect white tiles.

Chef John MacPherson steps back and silently considers the potential of the pristine, blank canvas for just a moment. Then - quickly and precisely - he sets to work.

I have been given a backstage pass. Welcomed beyond the kitchen door of the Foster Harris House, I sit at the work island – with a steaming cup of coffee in hand – watching Chef John MacPherson in action. Few guests get this behind-the-scenes glimpse. It’s like entering the artist’s studio. This is where glorious breakfasts begin.

Chef John applies technique, artistry and imagination, and I watch – riveted – as a dazzling tableau takes shape. Every step is deliberate. Colors, textures, aromas, flavors and dimension all work in concert to shape the total creation. Flaky puff pastry elevates the dish. A curl of hickory-smoked bacon catches the eye. A brilliant fresh salsa of red tomato and green avocado is scented with tart lime juice and cilantro. Luminescent poached eggs are meticulously trimmed. Deep red pepper, finely-diced is scattered across the plate, with a flourish of chipotle cream.

The finished entrée is indeed a masterpiece. One’s first inclination is simply to gaze, and take in the spectacle, but then, the appetite is inspired.

Art is to be admired and appreciated, but is food ever too beautiful to eat? At the Foster Harris House – never!

I visited the food and wine country of Virginia July 23 – 27, 2009.

©2009 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

Les Dames and Daniel

It is not my typical Saturday lunch.

The autumn air is crisp and clean as I stroll along East 65th Street in Manhattan, towards a cream colored building with an art deco façade. I turn left into a large set of revolving doors with burnished trim. On each glass panel is a cocoa-colored plaque embossed with the name DANIEL.

Inside, elegantly dressed women are drinking ruby red sparkling wine in tulip glasses. I quickly spot my friend “Lee Sloan,” a grand dame of food and wine and join her. I’ve learned a lot about the world of food and met a lot of scrumptious foodies, thanks to Lee. She was a pioneering force in the practice of food public relations and helped to establish the organization Les Dames d’Escoffier more than 30 years ago. As she often reminds me, I was just a child back then. Les Dames d’Escoffier is an international organization of women leaders who create a supportive culture in the food, beverage and hospitality professions. The group is named for the famous French chef, August Escoffier.

It is the annual Les Dames d’Escoffier induction luncheon. Seven women of distinction in food, wine and hospitality will be welcomed into the organization. We are directed into a handsome gathering room carrying our bubbly red wine. During the ceremony, women are honored in the fields of food journalism, publishing, wine and consulting. Some wander in late complaining of parking challenges and one Dame notes that the bus is perhaps the most reliable form of transportation on a Saturday in Manhattan.

With the ceremony concluded we proceed to the sunken dining room to experience Chef Daniel Boulud’s seasonal French cuisine. The décor is a mix of neoclassic columns and contemporary art. Seated at the table, along with Lee are Dames Betty Fussell, Roberta Morrell and Rozanne Gold. Betty Fussell is a writer and food historian I’ve met on a number of occasions. She studies quintessential American foods, has written “The Story of Corn” and just published a history of beef in America called “Raising Steaks.” Roberta Morrell is the owner of a prestigious wine business in New York City. Rozanne Gold was once chef to former New York City Mayor Ed Koch and went on to create the successful series of “Recipes 1-2-3” cookbooks which offer delectable recipes using only three ingredients. The talk of the table is predominantly presidential and vice-presidential politics, as it is almost everywhere these days.

The luncheon is akin to being presented with a collection of rare jewels. South Carolina Shrimp with Spiced Carrot Coulis, Lime Gelee, Ginger-Scallion Salad & Whipped Cilantro Cream fairly glistens on the plate – several perfect crustaceans on a sea of deep orange. Pennsylvania Squab, Leg and Foie Gras Pastilla with Young Radishes, Broiled Breast with Vadouvan & Avocado Chutney is deeply earthy and the dollop of foie gras meltingly rich, surrounded by expertly sculpted new vegetables. Cilantro Poached Pineapple with Coconut Cream, Lime-Rum Gelee & Pina Colada Sorbet is a composed landscape of bronze hues and intensely tropical flavors.

Chef Daniel Boulud appears at the center of the room dressed in a crisp and immaculate white jacket, with rimmed glasses and dark steely-gray hair. He is one of the world’s most celebrated French chefs. Deliciously charming, he introduces the kitchen staff, and several dozen young men and women in white uniforms enter the room to the enthusiastic applause of the guests. One can sense the esprit de corps of the team at DANIEL. Chef Boulud notes that the women on his staff would make exceptional members of Les Dames d’Escoffier. He then moves from table to table greeting guests individually.

After chatting at our table, he invites us to take a tour of the kitchen. He leads us through a side door and we leave the classic elegance of the dining room and enter a world of stainless steel, bright lights and precision. This kitchen is for cold preparation and lunch dishes. Prep stations are arranged in an angular fashion. There are young culinary professions carefully chopping perfect vegetables. A variety of spice canisters are stored on a high shelf that lines the wall, along with small works of Asian art, and there is a large picture window above us. Chef Boulud notes that this is the chef’s dining room. “Anyone can eat up there if they reserve ahead,” he says.

He takes us along a narrow corridor and down a series of stairs – a culinary pied piper leading us through his domain. We enter a labyrinthine, subterranean kitchen where a battalion of more than forty kitchen staff are at work, inspecting fine herbs, preparing soup, organizing ingredients and baking bread. We weave through the center of the room. Each work station is just about two-feet-by-two feet. Members of the staff smile and greet us, but never waver from their orchestrated tasks. Chef Boulud explains to me that the kitchen is active for many hours each day with some members of the team beginning work at 11 a.m. to prepare bread, with others reporting in by 2 p.m. for dinner preparation. The ingredients surrounding us are perfection. Chef Boulud stops at a station, picks up a flawless Honey Crisp apple, puts it to his nose and inhales the aroma.

We wind through more corridors, past computers and photographs of illustrious guests. I spot framed photos of Chef Boulud with President Bill Clinton and Julia Child before we climb another set of stairs and return to the lobby of DANIEL.

As we are preparing to depart, Chef Boulud graciously agrees to inscribe my program and writes in large, expressive script:

Merci et à bientôt! Daniel Boulud 10/08

It’s going to be tough to go back to Saturday soup and sandwich next weekend.

©2008 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

Coming Home to Chef Patrick O’Connell’s Country Inn

The seasons have changed several times since my last visit. The Inn at Little Washington is framed with late summer flowers and the air is pleasingly warm.

Although it is just 65 miles from densely-populated Washington DC, the Inn seems to exist in another time and place. Think Shakespeare’s Midsummer Night’s Dream, where magic, mythical figures and high adventure rule the night. Having spent the day hiking Shenandoah’s Old Rag Mountain – a strenuous scramble over prehistoric boulders – I am more than willing to succumb to the fantasy.

I am greeted affectionately at the door, as if I’d never been away, and taken to a table in the garden to enjoy a cocktail. Francois serves a sparkling rose wine accompanied by tangy parmesan crisps. The garden is a welcomed respite from the day’s hike, and there is a certain symmetry to the sparkling rose, the lovely flowers and the bubbling lily pond.

When I’ve finished my cocktail, I am escorted back to the dining room for my meal and seated at the same table where I dined during my last visit – a perfect corner location to view the drama unfolding before me. Sophie presents me with the evening’s menu. It reads “A Warm Welcome to Mr. Barritt,” and my eyes widen when I note the “Culinary Types” logo emblazoned at the top of the menu. They’ve done their homework. I am both astonished and flattered.

It is the Inn’s 30th anniversary year. I’ve chosen the Chef’s Tasting Menu with paired wines in order to experience as much as possible of Chef Patrick O’Connell’s famed cuisine. I munch on extraordinarily fresh Tempura Green Beans from the chef’s own garden and gaze in wonder as the procession of exquisite edibles begins.

A Tin of Sin tempts me with briny caviar atop a crab and cucumber rillette, ingeniously presented in an actual caviar tin. The salty black gems pop with the bubbles of the Andre Tissot Cremant de Jura Brut poured by Meredith, the sommelier.

A chilled pink watermelon soup – spiked with tequila – and the color of strawberry ice cream, conjures up refreshing thoughts of a lively summer picnic.

A Quartet of Island Creek Oyster Slurpees, is nothing short of a gastronomic thrill – bracing oysters topped with icy dollops of passion fruit, cucumber puree, wasabi and traditional cocktail sauce. It is accompanied by smooth, chilled Sake.

A sweet Seared Maine Diver’s Scallop is bronze and luminescent white and sits in a pool of Garden Minestrone. A crisp, Potato Crusted Tuna Wellington, with a lively Caponata Ravioli and Sauce Bearnaise is a sassy, post-modern take on the classic dish.

The elegant focal point of the menu is as striking as a trompe l’oeil painting. Pan Seared Four Story Hill Farm’s Pekin Duck Breast offers succulent rare pink slices fanned over a glistening golden sweet corn pudding. Braised cherries add a dramatic, risqué flourish.

As a single diner, I know well there can be moments of self-consciousness in a restaurant when one eats solo, but never once do I feel that I am dining alone. The staff is charming and attentive. I chat with Meredith the sommelier about my encounter with a black bear on the hiking trail that afternoon. Shortly, Sophie returns and says, “So, I hear you met a bear today?” She is from Yorkshire, and we trade anecdotes about historic sites in Virginia. I feel celebrated, honored and right at home. It is easily one of the best dining experiences of my life, where food, service and environment converge in one sublime and joyful experience.

To my left, Sally Murray – resplendent in red – and her husband have come from Alexandria, Virginia to celebrate her birthday. We strike up a conversation over his Napoleon of Heirloom Tomatoes, and they are musing about whether a chef might become bored after thirty years at the same task.

There is still more on the menu. Blushing pink Strawberry-Basil Bubble Tea is sweet, spicy and effervescent. Served with a straw, I almost feel compelled to slurp like a youngster. The sweet finale is a Limoncello Soufflé – light airy, lemony and crowned with a perfect round of frosty lemon ice cream. At last, I am presented with petit fours in a tiny wicker picnic hamper. It is then that I get the question I’ve been hoping for all evening – Would you like to visit the kitchen? I try not to appear too eager, but calmly stand, button my jacket and follow Sophie.

The double doors to the kitchen are swept open to reveal Chef Patrick O’Connell standing at the center of the room. He is tall and stately and wears a long kitchen apron decorated with Dalmatian spots, an iconic pattern at the Inn. He greets me with a generous smile and we spend a few moments conversing, while the refined, purposeful, and choreographed activity of the kitchen plays on all around us.

While I have often heard him referred to as “Patrick,” I address him as “Chef,” the term of respect we used at the French Culinary Institute. He is well-briefed on my background. “I hear you write an online column,” he says, and at this point, I am feeling a bit like I am in the middle of an extraordinary dream.

I decide to put forward the question Sally and her husband have been speculating over. “After thirty years, do you ever get bored?”

He laughs and says that such a thing would be impossible. “No half hour is the same.”

Chef O’Connell talks to me about creating a feeling of “home” at the Inn and his desire to assure that each guest has a “flawless experience.”

“You do that quite well,” I respond.

He tells me that when he began the Inn in 1978, his inspiration was the cuisine of France and he worked to adapt the techniques to achieve an American sensibility. He asks me about my writing. Do you write about New York restaurants, or recipes? I explain that I write about people and food and that I am most successful as a writer when there is a person at the center of the story. I look for the connection between people and food. He seems to approve. Too many reviewers think of the food as a product, he tells me. They don’t think about the connection between the person and the creation.

He inquires as to whether I cook, and I confess that I am probably the best trained amateur to work his way through the French Culinary Institute. He tells me that Dorothy Hamilton, the founder of FCI is expected to dine at the Inn later in the week. He describes another of my favorite instuctors, Anne Willan of La Varenne, as a powerhouse.

Chef is kind enough to pose for a picture, and after that, I decide it is time to leave him to his work. There are still many more dinners to prepare and many more guests to indulge. I’m reluctant to go. I feel right at home.

I leave the Inn grasping the menu, a talisman of all that has transpired. The Virginia summer night sky is lit with a thousand brilliant stars and at that moment, my little universe does indeed seem flawless.

Recently I traveled through the Virginia countryside, discovering the local food, history and hospitality of what is called “the birthplace of the nation.” I dined at The Inn at Little Washington on Wednesday, August 20, 2008.

©2008 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

The Hand of Friendship, the Art of Breakfast

A framed, counted cross-stitch sampler hangs in the foyer of the Foster Harris House. It depicts a whimsical country cottage with the words, “Let me live in a house by the side of the road and be a friend to man.”

The sampler is partially hidden by a large hat tree, but if you manage to spot it, it tells you a great deal about the owners of this bed and breakfast by the side of the road in Little Washington, Virginia.

The first time I stayed at the Foster Harris House I had a feeling of déjà vu, as if I’d met innkeepers Diane and John MacPherson before. Perhaps it’s their natural warmth and generosity that embraces you from the moment you enter the inn, creating the feeling that you’ve known them forever.

Diane and John are my heroes. Several years ago, they quit their day jobs in California and now live, work and cook in a town of 186 people where exquisite food is the lifeblood of the community – from a renowned five-star restaurant just a block away, to local vineyards and surrounding organic farms.

Diane orchestrates ambiance and amenities. Each room at the Foster Harris House is elegantly furnished yet supremely comfortable. John is the chef who sees artistry in simple ingredients like eggs and bacon.

Diane greets me with a smile and a hug upon my arrival. Within minutes, she presents a glass of chilled Pouilly Fuisse on a silver tray. I unwind on the deck reviewing hiking options for the days ahead. Shortly, John is at the side door and we are chatting about my career journey and his efforts to preserve the abundance of yellow heirloom tomatoes available at the nearby organic farm where they have a share. No sooner is it mentioned, when he offers me a creamy, golden tomato soup with a smoky adobo base and garnished with a perfectly pert basil leaf from the kitchen garden. John then offers bowls to two other guests. The soup is delectable after a long day of travel and practically glistens in the late afternoon sun.

Virginia has been blessed with a series of perfect days, and breakfast is set on the deck beneath a large, green market umbrella. While John works in the kitchen, Diane serves the four-course menu to guests. Each meal opens with an elegant parfait of fresh fruit with vanilla custard yogurt and granola, and there is always a basket of warm scones direct from the oven:

The main entrées are towering, imaginative designs of flavor and texture. Ingredients are impossibly fresh and bursting with color. Can one possibly select a favorite among such creations?

Each morning is better than the day before. New guests whisper to me, “Have you gotten this kind of breakfast everyday?” They can’t quite believe that such exquisite works have been prepared especially for them. When they think they can’t eat another bite, Diane takes special pleasure in announcing a “sweet finish,” perhaps a Lemon Liebchen with Blueberry Coulis, a miniature stack of pancakes sprinkled with slivers of luscious chocolate, a Cream of Wheat brulee or a Strawberry Cheesecake Crepe:

On the night before my departure – over an excellent glass of Bordeaux-style wine – I question John about the sense of place the MacPhersons have created in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains. His answers reflect a genuine delight in the guests who visit their establishment and the ability to connect with them for a brief moment in time.

“You get to see them in a place where they are happy and come to celebrate something,” John reflects. “They leave, and they are appreciative and satisfied. It’s a job well done.”

On my final morning, I am reluctantly preparing to return home. I am sitting in the kitchen, as John checks a couple out. I am just within earshot and can hear their conversation.

“Just one night, and we feel restored,” the woman says gratefully.

John responds with an ebullient and spontaneous, “Fantastic!”

The woman will likely pass the counted-cross stitch sampler in the foyer as she departs, but whether she notices it or not doesn’t really matter. Intuitively she knows that the art of friendship is more than just a clever saying, but a way of life at the Foster Harris House.

Recently I traveled through the Virginia countryside, discovering the local food, history and hospitality of what is called “the birthplace of the nation.” I visited the Foster Harris House in Little Washington, Virginia August 18 through 25, 2008.

©2008 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

Tapas Dancing as Fast as I Can – Part One

Mon Dieu! Can one learn the essentials of Spanish tapas at the French Culinary Institute? Apparently, the answer is a resounding oui!

I can’t speak a word of Spanish.

It’s been nearly two years since I took a hands-on cooking class at the French Culinary Institute. FCI’s gone through an extensive transformation and now offers instruction in French, Italian and Spanish cuisine in what is collectively referred to as the International Culinary Center. Privately, I wonder if I’ve still got my mojo. It’s been a while since the spit and polish drills of the culinary classroom.

At least I’ve still got my uniform and my traveling kit of chef’s knives. Frankly, the decision to enroll in the course was also one of economics. Times being what they are, it was a lot more affordable to sign up for a two-part cooking clinic on Tapas Essentials in New York City, than invest in a trip to Spain. Consider it a little appetizer for a future culinary excursion.

Although I had hoped for a little grounding in the history and traditions of tapas, the class of twenty-one students in white coats and white caps is immediately hurled into boot-camp mode.

“If I ask you a question, you say Yes, Chef, or No, Chef,” orders Chef Sixto Alonso, a native of Barcelona. “The chef isn’t crazy,” he elaborates. “The chef needs to be heard, and you need to listen. You understand?”

The direction has the desired effect. The students all snap-to, and I quickly find myself back in professional kitchen mode, as we scurry for onions and Red Bliss potatoes to prepare Tortilla Espanola. However, I am still clueless about tapas.

Fortunately for you, dear readers, I have since done my homework. As I suspected, tapas is the name for small appetizers served throughout the various regions of Spain – bar food, to be exact. One story, proposed in the 1997 edition of Joy of Cooking, says the practice began in the sherry region of Andalusia in southern Spain in the 19th century. Small slices of bread were placed atop glasses in local taverns to keep the flies out of drinks. The word tapas derives from the verb tapar, which is translated “to cover.” Along the way, some entrepreneurial bartender started to top the bread with slices of ham. Others speculate that bartenders offered small bites of salty snacks atop drinks to make patrons thirstier. Consumption of tapas has become a cherished ritual in Spain, with different regions developing specialties from local ingredients. You eat tapas slowly and it should always accompany a glass of sherry, wine or beer. You savor tapas at a relaxed pace and take pleasure in life.

During class, we are destined to violate this important cultural prerequisite.

The pace moves quickly, and I pull out a notebook to scribble down Chef’s staccato directions. The kitchen is hot, I’ve missed my morning cup of coffee, my cap it on the tight side, and I’m concerned about the circulation to my brain.

Chef assures us that he will try to follow the recipes in our book. “Sometimes I get too excited and do something else,” he confesses. I team up with an engineer from an Internet company in New Jersey and we start to assemble our mis en place.

We set to work preparing Pan Con Tomate, or Tomato-Rubbed Bread. The dish comes from the region of Catalonia and involves grating ripe plum tomatoes into a puree and adding fruity Spanish olive oil. The tomato dressing has a lush, floral bouquet and is spooned over bread and topped with Serrano ham, Manchego cheese or anchovies.

Aside from the irony of our frenetic attempt to prepare food that epitomizes leisure, it becomes clear that the success of tapas is all about the alchemy of simple rustic ingredients, bold flavors and precision technique. We sample Almendras Fritas, or sautéed almonds. Whole blanched Marcona almonds, sautéed in olive oil until bronzed, are considered essential at tapas bars. We puree tomatoes, cucumber, red pepper, garlic and sherry vinegar with extra virgin olive oil for chilled Gazpacho Andaluz. The gorgeous salmon-colored soup is fresh and audacious with pungent garlic, fragrant olive oil and tart sherry vinegar entangled in an exotic flamenco dance.

Chef demonstrates the preparation of a Tortilla Espanola, or Spanish Potato Omelet, but he is not happy with the initial results and prepares it again. He is looking for a light color and creamy texture. The tortilla is cooked slowly on the stovetop, differing from an Italian frittata which is finished in the oven. Spanish women take great pride in the preparation of the tortilla. Chef talks about how the women in his family once competed to make the best tortilla. “Guess what?” he jokes. “Grandma won.”

Following his example, we combine browned potatoes with sautéed onions and eggs in a sauté pan. The process includes a precarious moment when one must invert the tortilla onto a plate, and slide it back into the pan to continue cooking. Some of our classmates get tripped-up by this step, but we manage the flip with dexterity and the result is respectably puffed and yellow, studded with savory onions and tender potatoes.

Gambas al Ajillo is a simple preparation of garlic shrimp sautéed in a hot pan with olive oil, red pepper flakes and brandy. When the brandy is added, little bonfires erupt over each stove. The shrimp is then simmer briefly with a little shrimp stock and served in a traditional terra cotta dish called a cazuela. I fret that I may have overcooked the shrimp, but the dish is wonderfully spicy and aromatic.

Chef tells us it wouldn’t be a proper course on tapas if we didn’t learn how to make aioli, a sauce of garlic and olive oil. He drops garlic by the fist-full into a bath of olive oil in a roaring Vitamix blender. “This is a big bunch of aioli,” he chuckles. “Don’t go out on a date tonight.”

He combines egg yolks and saffron with the olive oil and garlic mixture in a food processor, which becomes luscious golden-amber peaks. Prized saffron grows in several regions of Spain. We lighten the concoction with whipped cream and spoon it onto briny mussels on the half-shell that are placed under the broiler.

We eat our selection of tapas standing at our work stations, with no sherry, wine or beer in sight. School rules prohibit alcohol during class, but we’ve just committed a big no-no when it comes to tapas etiquette and international gastronomic protocol. A nice glass of ruby-red Rioja alongside those saffron aioli mussels would have really hit the spot. With any luck, I’ll avoid an entanglement with the Spanish Culinary Inquisition long enough to make it to our second session.

©2008 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved