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tupac17616

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Posts posted by tupac17616

  1. When you say great desserts, do you mean plated desserts? Are you excluding bakeries and patisseries?

    Yep! :smile: But I'd love any recommendation on bakeries/patisseries, too. I'm a big fan of both Tartine in San Francisco and Boule in LA, but other than that...

    Except for Coi, are you saying you haven't found any places that serve great desserts in San Francisco?

    Yep. Basically that was my selfish motivation to post this in the first place. I want to know where eG'ers here go for the good stuff! And if that yields recommendations in other parts of the state, even better! :cool:

    One other pastry chef in LA you need to know is Karen Hatfield over at Hatfield's on Beverly Blvd. Karen & husband/chef Quinn just received a one-star Michelin rating this year. Very well deserved.

    I've wanted to try Hatfield's for quite some time. Next time I'm in LA, I will make it happen.

  2. I also really like Il Clandestino at Monte Conero, Porto Nuovo.  It's a shack on the beach, probably closed now...but outstanding. Chic shack.

    Portonovo is one of my favorite beaches, as it's relatively un-bagno-fied (at least on the Clandestino side of the tower). We usually plomp down right below the restaurant. Funny, but as I've heard mixed things about it, the most I've gotten there is a beer. Being a Cedroni operation, it's also quite pricey. There are other options in Portonovo and its environs -- but of course those wouldn't be sushi. And your right, Judith: they're open only during the season, from mid-May or so through August. Their website is here.

    Most of what I've read has been mixed, too. But I liked (didn't love) the other Cedroni places.

    Oh, and I meant Aniko, not Anko, above! :cool:

  3. I was talking about this with a few friends at dinner the other night, also, so I know I'm not the only one. And a recent topic of conversation in the Providence thread got me thinking about this once again. My question is a simple one:

    Where, oh where are the truly great desserts in California?

    I hate to sound like Mr. Cynical or the Grumpy Young Man, but the simple fact is that I notice a huge disparity between the desserts I've found in my new home (Calfornia) and those I've found where I lived before (NYC). The restaurants where I've had truly memorable desserts here in the past year or so can be counted on one hand:

    Providence in LA (chef Adrian Vasquez)

    Ubuntu in Napa (chef Deanie Fox)

    Coi in San Francisco (I'm honestly not sure who's in charge here, though I know chef Daniel Patterson definitely has some input)

    Why is this?

    Does the "California cuisine" banner, where ingredients are king, somehow suffocate innovation? And if so, where do you go for wonderfully executed classics? I can't say I've found those either.

    Have I just been going to the wrong restaurants?

    Am I overlooking super-talented chefs in my own backyard?

    Does California have an answer to Iuzzini/Mason/Stupak/Goldfarb/Ong/DeMasco/DePalma/etc?

    As a side note, I'm happy to see that Jordan Kahn has found a new home in LA after Varietal flopped in NYC. Looks like he's doing pastry at the recently (as in, less than a week ago) opened XIV (by Michael Mina of all people). Paying $8 for this guy's desserts is a steal, in my opinion. I'll definitely stop there the next time I'm in LA.

  4. We had the "milk chocolate, banana, coffee-urfa" - it was nice, of course. But not half as intriguing as the pre-dessert, which, I think, was similar to your "Pear" dessert, only with curry added.

    But I kow too little about the california restaurant scene to compare those desserts to those at other places (but if Providence's are "the best" in the state, well...).

    Anyway: You had 6 desserts? So I guess that the "chefs menu" is the "full tasting" plus those numerous desserts? Had I known that I would have ordered that menu, too.

    (And in this case there seems to be no need to come twice, since you get like 2-in-1: the full tasting *and* the dessert tasting...).

    The pear was a pre-dessert, and it might have had some kind of curry. To tell you the truth, my memory's a bit hazy on that one.

    The white chocolate lollipop was the very last little bite, in lieu of the petits fours / mignardises it sounds like you received.

    The chef's menu included 4 full desserts and those two extras.

    Next time I want all 8. :raz:

    I suppose it all depends on what counts as a course and what doesn't, but we had 19 little plates that night. I don't recall the price breakdown, but with the chef's menu, a supplement for the salt-roasted prawns, and four or five glasses of wine, I want to say it came to around $300pp. Not cheap by any means, but like you, I will certainly keep this place on my LA list. I can't imagine future trips without both Urasawa and Providence, really.

    Lastly, I would never be so bold as to call anything "the best". I just meant that to my taste, they were some of the desserts I have most enjoyed here. California is, in my opinion, just not home to many great pastry chefs, either traditional or innovative, in the way that, say, NYC is. But that's a topic for another thread...

  5. Cinghiale e Judith,

    Grazie per le segnalazioni! Il Clandestino a Posto Nuovo l'ho già sentito nominare, e sono stato da Cedroni (Madonnina e Anko) l'estate passata. Il Saranghino, invece, non lo conosco. Il menù sul suo sito web è molto interessante, per esempio..

    Crudo di scampi, vinaigrette del loro corallo, brounoise di frutti tropicali, finocchi canditi e granita al margarita

    Non vedo l'ora di tornare in Italia... :wub:

  6. The weakest part of the meal was the dessert, I must say: a not very inspired pairing of milk chocolate and banana; the coffee&urfa ice cream was good, a bit too peppery, though. The pre-dessert (raisin, pear, curry, hazelnut) on the other hand was outstanding, as were the petits fours and the pralinés, that you can get at the restauarnt in a little box (thanks, russell!!).

    Funny how tastes can vary. I was at Providence (1st visit) at the end of September, and I thought the desserts were wonderful. For me, Adrian Vasquez's desserts were maybe the most compelling desserts I've had in California, for that matter (aside from Deanie Fox, formerly of Manresa, now of Ubuntu). We did the chef's menu, and the desserts were:

    pear cider, pear sorbet, tuile

    mango / litchi-pandan sorbet / coconut soup with thai flavors

    sous-vide jonalicious apple / barley ice cream, pine nut purée, north star dried cherries

    milk chocolate, banana, coffee-urfa

    burnt caramel ice cream / chocolate, gingerbread, pears

    white chocolate lollipop, liquid (yuzu?) center

    If (or when) I get a chance to spend a few days in LA again, I'm going to Providence twice. Once for the chef's menu, and once for the dessert tasting menu.

  7. Next was a dish of warm oyster served with various ingredients that i cannot remember and can't seem to translate back from the french menu!  It was a good dish though and very interesting.

    My French is terrible, but my attempt at the accompaniments is: white beetroot soup; ground meat and vegetables stuffed inside caul fat, maybe with truffles to make it à la périgourdine (you can read about caillette here); chanterelle mushrooms with raisin vinegar; clear chutney of potimarron squash (whose flesh is like potiron (pumpkin) and whose skin has a slight nuttiness like marrons (chestnuts)).

    Afterwards the staff asked me what i thought and i commented that i was a little dissapointed and felt it did not live up to my expectations [...] I explained this to the staff, who pointed out that it was a seasonal menu and that it changes every month, and that i probably should have tried some of the dishes on the a la carte instead.

    Although I usually dislike the "Have you dined with us before?" question (usually a prelude for the the waiter to launch into a long speech about "how we do things here"), it seems like them understanding from the outset that this was your first time there could have made a difference. I always like to look at the a la carte menu even if I've got a tasting menu in mind. There's usually a good degree of menu flexibility when you're paying that kind of money.

    Also - after writing all this i've been reading through Tupac17616's Lunch and i can't help but think he seemed to get a much better deal than i did.  I got half as many aperetif's and i can only count 6 dishes for dessert??

    The Autumn menu is certainly more extensive -- and expensive -- than the lunch we had. That said, since we had some substitutions (duck instead of lamb), and supplements (langoustines, the "grand dessert"), the write-up I did may read like a lot more food than it was for each of us. I do remember being nearly full (a very rare state for me) when we left. I feel like a full tasting menu by comparison would have killed me.

    I did think our lunch was a particularly good value, a steal, almost. But without the remarkable duck dish, I'm not sure I would be singing that tune, frankly. I thought the 20E supplement for the "grand dessert" was incredibly reasonable, and I definitely plan to do that again if I go back to PG in the future.

    Lastly, I saw some pictures of the Autumn menu here, which might jog your memory about the desserts you had. Another description of the same menu, with no pictures and no desserts, is here.

  8. From the Senderens website:

    Aujourd'hui, nous vous proposons à la Carte

    Lièvre à la Royale,

    d'après la recette d'Antonin Carême pour le Prince de Talleyrand

    80 €

    (paired with)

    Coteaux du Rhône Saint-Maurice "Renaissance" 2000 - D. Viret

    La puissance et l'onctuosité du lièvre requiert des vins d'équlibre qui,

    tout en ayant la structure nécessaire, savent se montrer rafraîchissants

    12 €

  9. I would add Cracco in Milan

    ...and Osteria Francescana in Modena.

    I've not been to Cracco yet, but I would definitely second Francescana. Fantastic restaurant.

    And while we're in Italy, also:

    Uliassi in Senigallia (my favorite restaurant in Italy)

    Madonnina del Pescatore in Senigallia

    Le Calandre in Sarmeola di Rubano (my one meal there was not consistent with the glowing praise you can read elsewhere, though..)

    Combal.Zero in Rivoli

    Il Canto in Siena

    (I've not been to the last two but they come very highly recommended by a friend of mine who lives essentially halfway between them. He called the chef of Combal.Zero one of the best two chefs in the Piemonte (no small praise), and the chef of Il Canto, a disciple of Marchesi, among the very best young chefs in Italy.)

  10. Great post. My personal taste notwithstanding, I agree with most. The guy is great.

    I only regret that in my visit there were not so many Wagyu courses, only two. I was not so amazed by it and somehow feel that will have to give it more tries.

    For more wagyu, maybe try Totoraku (the "secret" Japanese beef place) next time? I've not been but maybe Carolyn Tillie can chime in about how it compares (or not) to Urasawa.

  11. My blogging partner in crime just finished up his write-up about the meal we had a week and a half ago. His thoughts are below, and our pics (and now some videos, too) are HERE...

    There are few chefs who tell a story without speaking, who can transport diners to a far away place without ever stepping on an airplane, and who can make diners feel at home and comfortable without taking off their shoes. Chef Hiro Urasawa is one of those chefs. And he does it all with a wide smile.

    Perched on the second level of the luxurious Two Rodeo shopping center, Urasawa sits above some of the most famous designers in the world: Fendi, Cartier, Tiffany, Prada, Cerruti and Versace to name a few. But unlike the downstairs world of fashion and style, upstairs, flavor rules. But it’s not like the outside world is hidden; in fact, sunlight pours in through the large windows overlooking the most famous shopping street in the United States. Rather, the simplicity of the space combined with Chef Urasawa’s humility, sense of humor, and genuine good nature encourage pretense and entitlement to be left downstairs. Without a doubt, the combination of Chef Urasawa’s personality, skill, and selection of ingredients made this my best sushi meal in the United States.

    Shortly after being seated Chef Urasawa introduced himself and asked Aaron and me for our names. While his soft-spoken sister Yoshi was taking our drink order he jotted them down on a piece of paper so he could address us each personally, an endearing gesture that would we certainly wouldn’t have seen at Masa most other sushi restaurants. He asked us if we had dietary restrictions or if there were fish we particularly didn’t like to which we happily explained: we eat everything. No; everything.

    A few minutes later we got started with live Hokkaido botan ebi (spot prawn) with yuzu zest, shiso, and shiso flower atop a small bed of sweet daikon radish. While the placement of the small decorative flowers atop this dish may seem random, don’t be fooled — each petal was placed by Chef Urasawa with exacting precision. This was a very sweet dish, particularly because of the fresh shrimp and the shiso. The refreshing watery crunch of the daikon radish combined with the fresh shrimp’s firm chew made for a nice range of textures. I would have enjoyed a slight pinch of salt to lift the flavors of each ingredient a bit, but that would have masked the incredible natural sweetness of the shrimp. We weren’t sure whether we should consider this dish an amuse bouche, or the first of the thirty three ”courses” that were to come. But I guess that’s all a matter of who is counting.

    While finishing the shrimp, Aaron and I began to hear small rhythmic crunches, like someone was jumping on a pile of leaves. In fact, Chef Urasawa was crunching the bones of a hamo, or king eel, a creature notorious for its abundance of tiny bones that, if improperly cut, can make the fish inedible. The eel was deep fried, marinated in a sweet and sour sauce, garnished with minced shiso and grated carrot, and served cold. The texture was meaty and firm, similar to a thick cut of turbot. The flavor was clean and refreshing; the dish lacked salting of any kind.

    The next course exemplified Chef Urasawa’s modesty and devotion to seasonality: a single wedge of misu-nasu, or water eggplant, with what he called “a very special soy sauce.” Sometimes a perfect vegetable needs neither cooking nor garnish. What an interesting texture this eggplant had: slightly more crunchy than a typical purple eggplant yet not at all starchy. We ate this with our hands which allowed us to feel the smooth, but not slimy, skin. A quick dip into the delicious soy sauce added just the right amount of salt, which worked to balance out the previous two sweeter dishes. I was tempted to ask for some more of this; but unsure of the quantity of food to come, I savored the moment and awaited what was to come.

    If heaven came in a bowl, it would likely be the course that came next: a warm edamame custard with chilled Santa Barbara uni and live Botan ebi, topped with a sea of sweet ikura and garnished with miniature chives and gold leaf. Chef Urasawa insisted the gold leaf was good for the stomach, as well as visually beautiful. After the first bite Aaron and I began to laugh. This was the freshest salmon roe we had ever had: where was the salt?! Each bite was a burst of sweet nectar that made eating the sea urchin and shrimp not only incredibly flavorful, but fun! Urasawa explained that he marinates the roe himself. Not sure how he achieves this magical texture; it was as if the ikura would burst at the slighest pressure of the tongue … the “shell” was almost non-existent, like a bubble about to burst in air. The crunchy chives added textural contrast to the smooth custard. Basically, this dish had everything: sweet and salty, warm and cold, crunchy and smooth. This was dish I will likely continue to taste for a long time.

    I never thought I could enjoy bouquets as gifts; but I was proven wrong. Sashimi bouquets from Urasawa are welcome anytime. Chef Urasawa served us otoro (fatty tuna) from Boston, kanpachi (yellowtail) from Toyama, and tai (red snapper) from Kyushu. Slices of these three fish sat among a lovingly prepared arrangement of fresh flowers, assorted seaweeds and freshly grated wasabi. This was all placed upon a hand-carved solid block of ice that Chef Urasawa explains he carves himself every morning. Both functional and beautiful, the block of ice resembled a rotating star. The white frosting around the ice made it look like origami from afar yet the temperature told otherwise. Butter-soft tuna was the first bite; the fat gently melted as it warmed in my mouth. The red snapper was surprisingly light. But the highlight was undoubtably the kanpachi, whose texture was in between crunchy and smooth, Aaron put down his chopsticks for a moment (a rare occurrence) and exclaimed “Oh god” — a sure sign of enjoyment.

    Chef Urasawa’s dobin mushi came next, a warm therapeutic soup of matsutake mushroom, botan ebi, uni, tai, and ginko nut to contrast the cold sashimi we’d just eaten. This was served in a clay tea kettle with a cup so that all the ingredients, particularly the broth, could be enjoyed a bit at a time. Aaron sat back and waited for me to be the idiot to burn my tongue; this was hot. I was very happy with my bite of the red snapper which somehow neither fell apart nor became firm after sitting in this broth. The ebi’s firmness increased and became similar to a miniature lobster tail. There was also a wedge of yuzu bathing in the broth to add a citrus element to the flavor… a really nice addition to brighten things up. Two cups of the broth was enough for me; but a glance at Aaron’s kettle revealed a light blue pattern at the bottom, only visible when empty. I wish there had been some more gingko nuts… after marinating in the teapot they became chewy, aromatic and delicious.

    Next came two small slices of lightly battered tender northern California awabi (abalone). Urasawa explained that he boils the abalone in sake and soy sauce for over six hours before deep frying them — this is how he gets the texture so succulent. The abalone was served on tempura paper with a small wedge of yuzu to cut through the oily mouthfeel. I tried to keep this in my mouth for as long as possible, though the amazing tenderness wasn’t making that easy. It was absolutely delicious — salt, citrus, brine all at the same time — and I didn’t want it to end. I tried to distract Aaron by telling him that his idol favorite chef David Kinch had just walked in; but he wisely ate his abalone before looking. Maybe next time.

    Our waitress placed two hot stones in front of us with several cuts of grade A-5 Kobe beef. There was no pedantic instruction on how to use the stone, or a lesson on “how things are done here;” rather, Chef Urasawa’s sister quietly and lovingly cooked each slice for us, lifting it from the hot stuff at just the right time. The room filled with the mouthwatering aroma of smoking fat. The stone was hot enough that it locked in the moisture of the meat while nicely searing the edges. A bite of this meat revealed its true secret: tender enough to you know it is meat yet subtle, melting and juicy enough that you know it has to be Kobe. When I asked Chef Urasawa what makes this Kobe beef so tender compared to others, he explained that, “nice people make good beef.” A statement that not only reflects his contageous positive outlook on cooking but his desire to follow the ingredients from his kitchen all the way back to the source: the rancher is a close friend of his.

    Next came a miniature shabu-shabu of ebi (shrimp), hamo (king eel), Kobe beef, foie gras, and hotate gai (scallop). The foie gras was dropped into the hot broth first since it takes the longest to cook through. It’s also the fattiest and the deposited an amazing richness that enhanced the broth. After the foie went in, the hamo, scallop, shrimp, and fatty beef each took turns jumping into the pool. When ready, each slice of meat and fish was removed from the boiling broth held in a thick paper bowl and placed in a small bath of vinegar, soy sauce ,and scallion to cool. I found the scallop a little bland in flavor but with an interesting texture. The hamo became surprisingly firm when cooked this way, and its rough edges became more pronounced. The foie gras was smooth and silky. The beef was sliced fairly thinly in order to cook quickly, and as such it was not quite so juicy as the previous course. But by now little bubbles of unbelievably flavorful fat popped up around the surface of the broth, and Aaron and I were given spoons to finish every last drop of this liquid gold that had now collected flavors of foie gras, kobe beef, scallop, eel, and shrimp.

    To accompany the sushi I ordered a half bottle of Chassagne-Montrachet 1er Cru from Abbaye de Morgeot. This slightly acidic and bright wine left a slight trace of vaseline on the tongue. The wine was light enough so as not to compete against the subtle flavors of sushi to come. A young girl to our right asked Chef Urasawa if it would be possible to leave out the wasabi (Aaron learned his lesson last time). He responded that he would be happy to leave out the wasabi; but suggested that she try it first since it was freshly grated and not so poignant as powdered substitutes. She tasted it and chose to leave it on. A great chef, and a great role model to future generations, this guy.

    Our assortiment of sushi emphasized seasonal fish. In order we had: otoro, kanpachi, grilled otoro, aji, tai, maguro, shima aji, ika, shitake mushroom, kohada, uni, mirugai, abalone from Chiba prefecture, kuruma ebi, grilled pike mackerel from Hokkaido, negitoro, unagi, and tamago. Despite being eighteen courses, the smaller portioning of rice (180 grains/piece, he said) made it all incredibly enjoyable.

    The kanpachi made another appearance, thankfully, with its chewy crunch — perhaps this unique, but welcome, texture is a factor of the season. I have only been to two other places in my life that serve ika (squid) like this: Kozue at the Park Hyatt Hotel in Tokyo, and Masa in New York. I’m not sure what makes this consistency so chewy; but it is absolutely my favorite sea creature to eat raw. It could be its ice cold temperature or the knife scores realized by expert chefs such as Chef Urasawa. Whatever it is, it is unlike any other squid I have tasted outside of those two locations.

    While we were finishing up the giant clam we saw Chef Urasawa’s brother-in-law beginning to prepare the live kuruma ebi (tiger prawn). And by prepare, I mean behead. I became aware that those shrimp needed to be on my plate ASAP before they die a moment of respect and awareness was in order at this stark reminder of the circle of life. They were lightly brushed with a sauce made from the shrimp brains — no part of the creature was wasted. And every part was utterly delicious.

    The giant collection of Santa Barbara sea urchin roe firmly overflowed the edge of the rice. Our friend dining next to us from Refined Palate summed it up nicely: “can you just inject the uni into my veins?” With only one bite, this was a tease. An utterly delicious tease. The tamago was also particularly interesting with a subtle sweetness and a texture more like pound cake than egg. ”The most important test of a sushi chef”, Chef Urasawa told us, is the tamago. If that’s the case, he passed with flying colors.

    Dessert was to follow the sushi, an asian pear gelée with umeboshi (pickled plum) and goji berries. The gelée had a smooth but mildly grainy texture on the tongue that immediately gave it away as pear. This dish was sweet by Japanese standards, but it wasn’t excessive — the sour umeboshi prevented the dish from becoming cloying. The gelée melted in my mouth rather than breaking apart. The mix of sweet and sour was well-balanced, making this simple dessert engaging and pleasurable.

    My favorite dessert of the evening came next, black sesame ice cream with red bean paste. It’s hard to describe this dessert as ice cream since the texture was so creamy it almost didn’t want to melt. It was more like an thick, cold, black sesame butter that was so nutty, the fragrance of sesame could be detected from several feet away. A small dollop of red bean paste rested on top adding a coarse contrast to the smooth ice cream. This dish was served with warm matcha green tea, whose subtle bitterness synched in harmony with the sesame’s sweetness. This was one of the finest drink-dessert pairings I had ever had. This was so good, in fact, that it pushed me over the decorum edge: I asked for another round. Unfortunately they had run out, but we were very kindly given some assorted wedges of mochi ice cream and very hot toasted houji tea, instead. The sad realization had come: this was the end of the meal.

    Chef Urasawa prepared a meal that can easily stand against some of the finest French and New American dining establishments in the country. However it was only afterwards when I realized just how ridiculous that really is. Chef Urasawa does not have a huge kitchen brigade — this is a one man show. And to prepare such unique and delicious meals (not to mention the worldwide acclaim he receives) without letting it get to his head is truly a special quality of the highest regard. Chef Urasawa responded with a gleaming smile to all of our questions no matter how trite. He encouraged the use of cameras and even held up some fish for us. He somehow got complete strangers talking to each other like close friends after just a few courses. I have never felt so comfortable in a place with this quality of food before.

    Comparing Urasawa to Masa is not such an easy task. Objectively, if all external variables are removed, the quality of food is nearly identical. Both Masa and Urasawa serve the freshest most flavorful sushi in the country. However, when considering warmth, comfort, presentation, and enjoyment of the experience of a whole, Urasawa is the clear winner. It was just so enjoyable to eat there.

    I anxiously await the next opportunity to return… like, tomorrow.

  12. The omakase at Kurumazushi is in a similar zip code, and from what I've heard, you'll pay as much or more for comparable quality in Japan. That is simply what it costs.

    While this may be true, some of the best places(mizutani, kyubei, jiro) dont charge that much.

    That's true. When I went to Masa, I paid about $450. When I went to Kyubey, I paid just over $100. Quantity-wise, Masa was simply much more food. But quality-wise, they were very comparable (except the kuruma ebi kinds of tipped things in Kyubey's favor).

  13. Baffled that Eleven Madison Park misses the cut again.

    Agreed. The only thing I can think of is that, extrapolating from posts in the EMP thread, the a la carte menu may be too inconsistent. But this does remain the most enduring mystery of the NYC Red Guide.

    Mystery indeed. Come ON, Michelin. Not even 1*? Seriously?!

    (That said, I'm happy to see Masa promoted. Still unsure how I feel about Ko getting 2 macarons, since I haven't been there yet.)

  14. Congrats, Tupac! You are really chipping away at "the list" and I'm glad you enjoyed your Urasawa experience!

    Thanks, Carrie! Last weekend was indeed some nice progress in my never-ending California list -- Urasawa one day, Providence the next! (And Pizzeria Mozza about an hour before a 5hr+ meal at Providence :wacko:)

  15. chef is really charming and attentive

    Absolutely. I went for the first time last Saturday. Hiro's bright spirit really made all the difference in the experience for me. The place is like a happy version of Masa in NY! I will definitely be back.

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