Peter Green
-
Posts
1,999 -
Joined
-
Last visited
Content Type
Profiles
Forums
Store
Help Articles
Posts posted by Peter Green
-
-
Looking back on our last Lao trip I'm struck by that warm feeling I have towards Vientiane. (the pictures don't seem to work anymore, but they're available on imageGullet if you can figure it out).
Vientiane's dusty and flyblown, but it's got a pleasant neglected atmosphere I find charming.
Still, it's never been the same since they cleared the beer garden out of the fountain.
For eats, the Kop Chai Deau near the fountain was good, with very nicely done crickets (and I've eaten them across several continents).
Le Grillot near the Talaat Sao was serviceable, but, for Indochine the wine was disappointing, having a very small selection they didn't quite know how to open.
Le Na Dao has a better reputation, but was closed when we were there after New Years.
I'd give L'Opera a miss. Once I was very fond of it, but I was disappointed last time.
The Scandanavian Bakery behind the fountain is good for a baguette with ham and cheese.
Street stalls everywhere are worth trying, especially down along the river side.
For drinks....find Beer Lao on tap! Do not miss this opportunity.
And look for Lao coffee. It's good...real good.
And check, at the airport, if they still have beignets.
Now, just promise to write and post.
And I want to know if they've got cash machines (that work) yet!
-
September 23 – Life is for the Liver
We found ourselves back in Madison.
I like finding myself back in Madison.
The access is easy enough that I can pop in the kitchen and see what’s happening ahead of time, and there are still enough of the staff about that recognize me that they don’t call the security (not that that’s likely to happen here).
Michael Ginor’s dinner is always one of the highlights. This must be….what, the fourth or fifth year of the Foie Gras dinner? Even before that Michael was always a prominent part of the Luxury Dinner, and there was always his class on the care and handling of your foie gras.
Excuse me, as Roger Corman just said, I’m in my anecdotage.
Torchon of Hudson Valley Foie Gras and Pineapple
Duck Prosciutto and Vanilla Star Anise Gastric
Louis Jadot, Pouilly Fuisse, 2003
We started with the pate de foie gras resting in the middle of a pineapple ring. The natural tartness of the pineapple nestling in comfortably against the shoulder of the medallion of foie gras torchon in the middle. A good, sensible combination of flavours –the tart and the fat (which could be a Pogues album) with an appealing tropical feel. I should try this when I get home.
The Pouilly Fuisse filled the mouth well, very full bodied, although there was an odd hint to the nose at the start. But that may have just been me, as it went away quickly and I was content to flush my palate happily with this after the first glass. It worked very well with the pineapple’s tartness. A good, refreshingly dry white from the Maconnais.
Louis Jadot has been around in Burgundy since 1826 (with the Clos des Ursules, a Beaune Premiere Cru) and have been a winery since 1859 (when John Brown raided Harpers Ferry and Southern Vietnam became a French colony), and I was looking forward to their Burgundies.
Kobe Beef Tartar and Carpaccio with Shaved Truffle Scented Foie Gras
Crispy Quail Egg and Chive Shallot Emulsion
Louis Jadot, Pouilly Fuisse, 2003
The beef tartare was, for me, the high point, but Yoonhi will hold for the next dish. The foie gras was shaved over the spooned wagyu. The truffles had been nicely worked into the meat. When this first came out, it was with a boiled quail egg, which erupted its fluid in proper drama. As far as food porn goes, this is way up there.
The Pouilly Fuisse was, again, a pleasant way to clear my mouth between bites, but I was really craving something red. Luckily, the Saint Joseph came out ahead of the next dish, and so I could satisfy my tendency for red.
Guigal’s Saint Joseph, from the Northern Rhone, has the bite of the Syrah grape, with a little bit of white grape (roussanne or marsanne) to top it off. Given Guigal’s reputation, it’s not surprising I enjoyed this.
Butter Poached Lobster and Seared Foie Gras,
Fennel, Mustard Syrup and Citrus Fruit
Guigal, Saint Joseph, 2003
Yoonhi preferred the butter poached lobster to the tartate. I like this too, I do admit, but the richness of the lobster lacked the direct carnality of the wagyu tartare we’d just had.
Of course, while the kobe gives you that rough trade hardcore sort of feel, the soft flesh of that lobster, paired with the oozing fat of the foie makes you think of airbrush heaven. Add on that smear of puree, the fennel for a hint of licorice, and some peeled orange, and you’re in heaven.
I had them pour me another glass of the St. Joseph so that I could better contrast it to the powerful Gigondas from further south. (It’s always good to have a rational when you’re drinking heavily).
Roast Squab and Parrsnip Mousseline,
Foie Gras Sabayon, Squab Essence and Hibiscus Air
Guigal, Gigondas, 2003
The table was perfectly happy with the squab. It was well cooked through. In this I think Michael has the benefit of knowing his audence well, as Asia doesn’t take well to a bloody pigeon, at least not since Bird Flu caused its panic. I used to know the Thai for that….
For myself, I would have taken this on the sanguinary side. I like to see some response from the meat when I cut in, and this would be just on the other side for me. But, I’m a minority in the crowd here tonight. Plus, I have my tartare, and the Gigondas and Guigal both work well with this.
Rarish Tuna Fillet Mignon with Truffle Foie Gras Flan,
Bacon-Lentil Stew and Pinot Noir Shallot Butter
Louis Jadot, Morgon, Chateau des Lumieres, 2002
Seared tuna (and just barely seared) was a daring finish for the meal. Serving the tuna on a bed of lentils worked very well, and combined both textures, oils, and flavours, and the foie gras flan set it off completely, with that blubbery feeling that says you and your waistline are never going to see each other again (we actually parted company some time ago).
The Chateau des Lumieres is an excellent wine, the 2002 being very well balanced…which means I could drink it all day. With the tuna it works surprisingly well, bringing all the disparate flavours I’d mentioned above together.
I needed to do more comparisons.
Raspberry with Alpaco Chocolate,
Linen Seed Nougatine and Kalamansi Sherbet
As dessert came out, Michael dropped by to see how things had gone, I made the mistake of playing cute and saying “everything’s fine, but I’m still making my mind up about the tartare”.
I’m an idiot.
The dessert was a nice thing, but you know how I am with desserts. Still, when I’m here I always enjoy them, knowing the quality of the staff they have at work (and with Michael Laiskonis visiting). The sherbert is a good pairing. As with Siggi’s dessert, it’s nice to have a not-so-sweet bit of cold – in this case a sherbert – to bring out the sweetness in the other ingredients.
Petits Fours
Now, look at this trio of petits fours below. What could be prettier?
Michael had called my bluff, and went for overload with the meat.
Drizzled well and laid out on another of those squares of molecule thin meat, the tartare was even more stunning as a triplet.
Trust me, after finishing up this much meat, I was stunned.
Okay, maybe the three beautiful reds I was working over had a hand in the stunning.
So, how did I like the meal? Need you ask? But, when people ask me which meal I liked the best during this week, I tell them I’m leaving Michael out of the answers. He (and David Britton, from the Springwater Bistro in Saratoga) have the (adopted) home court advantage here, as his years working with the Four Seasons make his meals seem effortless…..mind you, I do say “seem”. Conveying the appearance of ease is often more difficult to achieve (than it seems).
My only concern?.....The lobby was empty. I really missed the convivial gatherings here in the aftermath of our meals, when we would compare the tastings of the day and sharpen our appetites for what was to come.
I guess I don’t really need to hone my appetite much more.
My wits could be sharper, though.
Note: some of these photos will look pretty good. That's because they're Clark's, not mine. I'll link in his where they're needed.
-
I'd second the recommendation for ZenKimChi's stuff. That will give her a lot to work from.
Also (because this has worked for vegetarians in Thailand) have someone clearly write out in hangul (the Korean alphabet) what she cannot eat. Folks will probably scratch their heads and look confused, but the Koreans can be very accommodating.
On the food list thing...there are some great beef spots on the street, and han-u (Korean beef) is excellent.
And the set table dinners are light on pork, offering a wide selection of banchan. You just have to be careful about those little clams in the broths.
-
I know, I know, I've been flaking off.
But I've just been having too much fun.
However, I'll try and post Michael Ginor's dinner soon, and then, once I leave Bangkok, I can settle into the vivisection of the trip.
For now, it was a wonderful meal last night with M and Ellen at Cy'an. The Leeuwen Estate folks brought some extra treats with them, and we ended up overindulging.
Today was Ember, a venture out of Singapore that did an excellent tasting menu, with enough foie gras to tide me over for my remaining days here.
Which leaves me here in the early evening trying to coax Yoonhi into heading out again for either Tokyo Joe's or Saxophone.
I think I'll have to content myself with some namezake and whatever's on UBC tv.
more soon
P.S. - I love this town
-
The rains have started.
After a week of gun-metal skies, interrupted by the odd bit of brilliant blue, the heavens have opened.
We did the brunch today. I'd intended to miss it, but we suddenly realized that Clark had no idea of what brunch really should be. So, it was a matter of obligation.
After the four hour marathon everyone was content and it became apparent that my family needed to go for a massage.
And so, I enjoy the rain.
The best line today - Clark, while I'm explaining the strategy of eating the buffet "Great! Just what I need; an eating coach".
Maybe there's a career for me in that?
-
yes, yes, that is the pancake!!!! i must have been wrong about the coconut milk....and it came in many sizes, i don't remember seeing them folded like that, but cooking in that little pan is totally the thing! i'm off to click onto that recipe asap, and did i say thank you and that you're fabulous?
One of the blog entries I read said you can put coconut in them (as a topping), so the one you had also had coconut?
And you're welcome!
I hope you'll let us know how it turns out. It looks like a Thai street snack I've had. It might be fun to make it at home!
Khanom buang? I need to sneak out and eat more of those!
-
Walnut tree + slingshot + ball bearings = squirrel farm
-
This may give me the final justification to purchase an iPhone (or at least to buy a lot more stock in Apple).
-
I've fallen so far behind in my writing that I think I owe everyone a synopsis.
I can take the full pleasure of obsessing and posting and obsessing about posting later on, as the weeks unfold.
Following up on Celina's class, we did the foie gras dinner (which I'm working on the write-up now). Michael is a good standard for quality (and quality requires standards). He does have the benefit of knowing this place very well, and so he can drop into the groove with little effort. But he's also incredibly well-disciplined (as opposed to me) and so can always deliver an excellent meal, to the point that he'll do interesting things that another guest chef might not dare. I'll leave the details to the full writing, but that's the general impression.
The class with Siggi the next day (the 24th) was pleasant. I've spent a little time talking and eating with Siggi, and he's one of those people you just naturally like. The preparations were clean and straightforward (I have to try making that sausage at home), and the instruction didn't overwhelm the notebook. The Silenis came over far better in this setting, giving us more time to reflect on the differences between them and standard Kiwis, and my nephew is now an avid fan of theirs.
After Siggi we did Glen Ballis that evening. I'd talked with Malcolm, the F&B here, about this, and what they did makes sense after I've thought about it. The whole idea was to be eclectic. An Australian chef cooking in Moscow doing Asian food in a Japanese restaurant with good Bordeaux wines. That's eclectic. This is one case where I wish he'd been earlier in the program with his cooking class, as his food is (perhaps) the most complicated.
The next day it was class with Jeffrey Jakes. Clean, straightforward, and he has the practice and style of a good teacher, keeping a continual stream of information coming to you as he tries to figure out the hi-tech kitchen we have this year. I think he did the best job of defining American food, drawing upon the iconic hamburger: "In America, we adjust the flavours to suit our tastes". I'll come back to that idea later on in this thread.
That evening was dinner in Biscotti with Celina. I like Biscotti, I like Celina. This was a good meal, and, while some of the meals did better in the more clinical setting of the classroom, this one was superb in the wine dinner. Plus, the Jordanne wines of Niagara came over very well (and I snuck in a few extra glasses of the sparkling Icewine).
Mornings were getting to be a chore by this point, but at least we had the day to ourselves on Friday. I'll give you a break form the WGF when I get to this, and post some Thai food again.
The Gala was, well, a gala. Jewelry, a different crowd of people, and lots of pretty dresses. Myself, I was sweating to death in a tux, but how often do I get to wear one. As a meal it worked out well, without the button popping excess of some prior years. And I found a tumbler of Yamazaki whiskey in the room this morning when I came back at 6 a.m. after a march through town with some of the chefs.
And so we find ourselves existing in the now (something I try not to do too often). Clark and I did Glen's class, by far the most challenging, and Serena and Yoonhi did tea in the lobby with a crowd of my friends. I'm debating the relative strengths of nap vs swim, and my daughter is doing the otaku thing with her new games from MBK.
If I do a swim, maybe I'll fit in my tuxedo again?
-
11:47 a.m. I'm awake, and I can attest that, yes, there was beer Chang to be had.
I'm glad I carry coffee with me.
-
Peter, you making me want to lick the screen. Man the pork belly is calling to me.
I hadn't thought of offal not being offered in Thai restaurants until you brought it up. Hmmmm I wonder if it is because they think the customers wouldn't be interested, or something else?
I think there's an issue with a lot of the "new cultures" not wanting to offend their host countries. Yes, some of us lose out, but we avoid having them feel bad about us feeling bad.
That's an odd way of putting it, I know, but it's all about how you feel about how people feel.
I've been out here too long, I know.
Tonight's dinner, the Gala, was fun. I have a tumbler full of Yamazaki whiskey that I extorted out of the staff, and now I'm wondering if there's some beer Chang to be had.
But, we'll get back to that in due time.
-
September 23 – A Touch of Class
I woke up. Again the red numbers of death were confronting me from my bedside, but this time it wasn’t so bad. It was only about 8. Serena and Yoonhi would be arriving soon, so I headed for the shower.
As expected, just as I was about to wash, they arrived. It’s a guarantee.
Once the family was settled, and Yoonhi had set out with Serena for the pool, Clark and I went down for the first of the cooking classes.
Celina Tio
Celina grew up in a house where her grandfather, Julian, did the cooking. When he wasn’t cooking, the other men in the house were. By eight she’d developed a resolve to be the first woman in the family to cook in the kitchen. She stuck to it.
The result is a charming young lady with a solid background who’s taken a series of the top awards; 2005 Chef of the Year (Chef Magazine) and 2007 Best Chef: Midwest by the James Beard Foundation (among others).
I’d be happy enough if I could get Serena to be resolved enough to get out of bed for breakfast right now.
The dishes we’d be doing today were, as Celina said, indicative of American cooking, which means you can do just about anything. We would start with the Sonoma mushroom stack, then we’d do a braised pork belly, and finish with her version of a Baklava. A bit of California, some solid US pot roast, and a touch of the Med.
Celina had been at The American in Kansas City for the last several years, but had left it a couple of months ago. She’s spent the time with her two and half year old. But she was itching to return to the kitchen, and was preparing to open her own place now, which will be called Julian.
They changed the layout of the demo, moving everything 90 degrees counterclockwise, and installing an impressive Gaggenau cooking station. Where before there’d been a small oven and a table top gas burner for the chefs, now they had a grill, gas range, magnetic induction unit, two ovens, and a huge standing fridge/freezer.
All of which made it harder to figure out. But it looks really good. I’m an easy sell on hardware.
Sonoma Mushroom Stack
serves 4 to 6 (depending on the number of eggs)
First up was a revelation regarding ricotto. I’ve been spending too much money buying it. Part of Celina’s style is to make her ingredients herself, rather than sourcing them. The ricotta was dead easy.
1 gallon milk (raw would be best, if you can get it)
¼ cup vinegar
We brought the milk up to 92 degrees C (we’ll be waffling between centigrade and Fahrenheit here), and then, when the milk came up, poured in the vinegar to get it to curdle, which happens right away.
Then she took off the curds, let them settle for a couple of minutes, and then worked them up like scrambled eggs to break the size down evenly.
1 sheet of phyllo pastry
fresh ground pepper and kosher salt to taste
2 tbsp butter
First, clarify the butter, and have it ready with a brush. Then spread out your phyllo in a full sheet. Cover this with a damp cloth so it doesn’t dry out. Then spread out another, and cover, and then take a third sheet and brush with the clarified butter. Top this with the second sheet, brush it, too, with butter, and then season lightly. Then take that first sheet that was staying moist, brush it with butter, and add it to the stack. Now, using either a knife or a wheel, cut the phyllo stacks into 3 inch squares. Bake these at 375 degrees centigrade for 7 to 9 minutes. You’ll want to either bake them between two non-stick baking sheets, or, if you don’t have heavy these, just find something reasonably heavy and flat to put on top (that won’t stick) so that you can keep the sheets flat.
1.5 lb of assorted mushrooms (she had some really pretty clamshells with her)
1 shallot
1 clove of garlic
2 teaspoons red vinegar
2 ounces vegetable stock
1 teaspoon chives
fresh ground pepper and kosher salt to taste
1 tablespoon of butter
Meanwhile, the mushrooms were sautéing on the flat top, a touch of olive oil to start things. After 30 seconds she added some minced garlic and shallots.
Seasoning, she always does it in three stages. At the start, before the it heats up, in the middle, and at the end.
After another minute or so, add some red wine vinegar and vegetable stock to the ‘shrooms and then let it reduce a shade. Then hit it with that tablespoon of butter you had back in the recipe, and swirl it in. When it’s all functional, add the chives, and touch up the seasoning (the third stage) to taste.
With the mushrooms ready, they’re put aside. This is a dish that can be prepped in advance.
Next, we turn our attention to the eggs. These are cooked one by one.
4 to 6 farm fresh eggs, whole
fresh ground pepper and kosher salt to taste
1 cup panko bread crumbs (the Japanese kind)
2 tablespoons of butter (you can never have enough butter)
Put a little oil in, and then sprinkle in half the bread crumbs. Work out a divot in the middle for the yolk to nestle in, and then crack and slide in the egg. Season for the first time.
Sprinkle more bread crumbs on top.
When its cooked on the bottom, carefully flip it and cook it crispy and brown on the other side too (and season). Be careful that you keep the yolk soft. One of Celina’s favourite quotes was “the egg is the only food that comes with its own sauce”.
With the egg complete, a lovely golden brown colour, you now come to the best part. You trim off the edges to square the shape, and then you get to eat the edges (and check the seasoning).
Now you can plate it. Egg on the bottom, and then top this with some ricotta. Put the phyllo square on top of the cheese, and then stack up the mushrooms, repeating the phyllo/mushroom layers as ambitiously as you choose. When it’s ready, drizzle with extra virgin olive oil and pop it in the oven to warm up a touch (if needs be).
I little sprinkle of oil and herbs around the plate, and you’re there.
Slow Roasted Pork Belly
3 lb pork belly
2 quarts brine
6 purple carrots blanched
6 yellow carrots blanched
6 orange carrots blanched
24 tri coloured pearl onions
24 marble potatoes, blanched and split
¼ cup pinot noir
1 cup veal stock
fresh ground black pepper and kosher salt to taste
1 teaspoon chopped parsley
1 tablespoon of cold butter
Note: the water
The recipe above is the one in the book, but you’ll find that we added and took with what was available at hand. For the carrots, we used just some nice purple ones, pretty little vegetables that’ll dress up well. Those in the recipe provide a nice range of colours, but you could just as easily use any good old-fashioned orange carrot.
The day before….
Start off with a brine. Celina’s fond of brines. She boils up water with a bit of sugar and enough salt. This breaks down the crystals. Then she adds in peppercorns and herbs and lets it cool.
With the brine cold, she skins the belly and lets it have about two hours in the salt bath.
The pork belly, out of the brine, is seasoned and then seared. Move it from the pan to a parchment covered tray, and let it go for four hours at 250 F. After the time is up, put the meat on another parchmented tray,put some parchment on top, then weigh the meat down to keep it flat as it cools overnight.
I’m going to have to buy more parchment.
The day of serving, slice the pork into 6 ounce servings, and then fry it fat side down to render some of the fat out and get it crispy. It’s a heart warming sight to see a lump of pork like that sizzling away on the flat top. Then you can put it in the oven for 40 minutes at 250 F again to heat through.
Take the vegetables and sauté them over medium high in olive oil, going for a golden brown finish. Celina added in celery here, as well as some fresh thyme (but not the parsley yet). When you get golden, deglaze with the wine and reduce by half. Then add the veal stock, and add the cold butter. Chop the parsley, and add it to the sauce last.
The plating is straightforward. The sauce goes in, the meat takes centre place (and a little more seasoning), and then the onions and potato go in the sauce, and those pretty, thin carrots garnish the top.
Frozen ‘Baklava’
Honey Semifreddo with Warm Pistachio Cake and Crispy Phyllo
We start with Celina’s version of Baklava.
2 sheets of phyllo pastry
2 oz melted butter
1 oz sugar
First, the sheet of phyllo is draped down like a shroud, then brushed with butter and sprinkled with sugar. Then drape another shroud and brush with butter and sprinkle with sugar again. The recipe just calls for two sheets, but you could make this thicker if you chose.
The sugar can be any type, depending if you want a slight granularity, or just the sweetness (castor). Brown of various flavours will work, too. It’s just a matter of taste.
Knife or wheel, take your pick, you cut the prepped Baklava into rectangles (or whatever shape you’re after) and pop it in the oven until golden.
Keeping with the trend, the phyllo is also baked weighted down to keep it flat.
Next up was the semifreddo:
1 cup heavy cream
1 egg
2 tsp gelatin (or 2 sheets – she prefers sheets, like most chefs I’ve talked to)
1.5 tbsp water
2.5 oz honey
This can form the basis of a lot of desserts, taking just about any topping you can imagine. Semi-frozen, it doesn’t need the churning of ice cream. You can just mix it up, flavour it, and then freeze it in shape, giving you a perfectly easy way to eat cream.
The gelatin sheets were bloomed back while we were working on the phyllo, and then heated gently in a double broiler to bind the gelatin to the honey, then allow to cool.
The cream was whipped to medium peaks with the eggs, and then the honey/gelatin was mixed in as well, with a little reserved for painting the plate.
The whip in the mixer was a little short, so Celina ended up doing it by hand, which was a much faster process. This is then poured out into the molds, and banged off to the freezer.
The third part was the pistachio cake.
9.5 oz browned butter
3 oz pistachio flour
6 oz all purpose flour
8 oz powdered sugar
9 oz of egg whites
This is basically a financier. Whip the egg whites up to a froth, and then add the flours and sugars and whip until evenly combined. At that point, slowly dd the browned butter while continuing to whip.
At this point, let the batter rest overnight. Okay, we can’t do that with the time at hand, but then again, we’re not really going to eat this one, we’re going to eat the ones made earlier, so it’s okay. The batter is piped into molds and spatula’d clean, and then baked.
For the plating, put down the bit of reserved honey, then use the sheet of ‘Baklava’ to separate the cake from the semifreddo. Top with a sprinkle of pistachio to match the cake’s underpinning, and chow down.
With the dishes we did three wines from Vincor. The first two were from their Jordanne subsidiary. This is a joint venture of Vincor and Boissset France, working from vineyards in the Niagara region (the Canadian side, that is).
The first was Le Clos Jordanne Village Reserve Chardonnay from 2006. This had a bit of butterscotch to it, and more tropical fruit tones than what we’d had the night before. With the mushroom stack and the thickness of the egg yolk squirting out, this was a good match.
Then the pinot noir. This was also part of Jordanne’s Village Reserve, a 2005. This smelled like a pinot noir, and was also a fair pairing for the pork, which pulled apart under the fork.
Not bad wines, in either case, and safe with the plates they were supporting.
Vincor had been out here a few years back. Then it was the Inniskillin Icewine they’d been promoting, and that’s still their primary product here. With the Baklava they served the 2006 Oak Aged Vidal Icewine, a nice touch of nectar to slide along with the honey and cream of the dessert.
I would love to do an Inniskillin with some foie gras at some point. I’ll have to look for that. They’ll be putting it into the market here in December. I remember when they were promoting it back here before, and when asked about the best place to get a bottle, it was Singapore Duty Free, given that the Thai tax system pretty much kills most wine sales here.
It’s good to see Vincor back here. They were out last for WGF 4 or 5, I’d have to go back to my notes (which aren’t here in Bangkok with me). One of the Canadian success stories, they were bought out by Constellation of the US. But then, Constellation is part of Seagram’s, which goes back north of the border. It was Constellation as well that bought up Mondavi on that fateful night a few years back when we sat down to a vertical tasting of the Mondavis here at the Four Seasons a few WGFs ago.
I poked around behind the Gaggenau front, admiring the under-the-counter fume hood, and the MI unit. They had a neat accessory that I should pick up, a metal ring, like the crown of the Monkey King, that rests on the MI unit. This both maintains the contact so that the system doesn’t shut down when you raise away (at least, that’s a feature on my Eurodib) and it allows you to use your round bottom woks.
This was the first lunch class, and, along with the food and wine, we were all catching up on the latest places to eat in town. Isao, on Sukhumvit soi 31 sounded good, a small Japanese venue; and everyone was saying good things about Ember, a Northern extension of the Singapore venture. And there was also a really good crab winter noodle place in the food court in the Emporium……
I need more time for eating.
Next: more time eating
-
September 22 – Siggi Hall
Iceland. I think of…..well….ice. And rocks. And volcanoes, geysers, Viking longboats, NATO anti-submarine warfare. That sort of stuff.
But what it actually is is the country the UN has pegged as “most developed”, with an excellent standard of living, a healthy economy (still heavily based upon food exports), and a strong sense of tradition and culture.
And any time I hear tradtion and culture, I start to think of food.
I’ll put aside the travel statistics for later, as we’ll be doing Siggi’s cooking class, too, so I’ll yack about that later.
We were dining in Shintaro, a nice setting for this, as I was to find a number of similarities with Japanese cuisine, not least the emphasis on fish.
Siggi took a couple of minutes to discuss the food, most of which had come with him from Iceland in some darn large luggage, but I’ll put those comments in place with the dishes that come up.
I’d been looking forward to trying his food since I’d begun doing the background research on him earlier in the month. He is very much the man for Icelandic cuisine, having led the Icelandic culinary team for 5 years in the 90’s, and is a key player in the New Nordic Cuisine promotions, this last seeing him appearing on dozens of tv programs over the years. I’d met him for a moment the day before at brunch, as he was still getting over the flight trauma (like me). He’s a very large man, with that slow rumbling manner of speech that I like in the Scandinavians, reminding me of a bear coming out of slumber. And he also shares that pleasant happy nature I find in a lot of the Scandinavians.
Pip from Sileni of New Zealand was up next. Sileni, happily, was back for this WGF. I’d really enjoyed their tasting when they were here a couple of years ago. They were very concerned about developing their wines for food, and then Pip brought their chef with them from the culinary school. It was a great session, and when I’d seen their names on the list earlier in August, I was quite happy. The Kiwis always approach everything they do with a certain joy – be it making wine, bungie jumping, or driving a bus, so it’s hard not to like them.
Pip did joke that the Four Seasons must have been looking at a map of the world, and tried to pick the two farthest spots to match up for a dinner. But there was a lot in the menu that she felt would work with their wines, and she was looking forward to seeing how things worked out.
Sileni is in a good position here, being the leading NZ wine in the Thai market. Okay, that’s small compared to the role the Aussies play here, but they’re happy with the relation ship they’ve built up, which isn’t bad given that the winery is only on its 10th vintage.
But enough of that, let’s consider the food.
Plate of Icelandic Starters
Herring with Horseradish Sauce
Cured Salmon
Langoustine Tails
Sileni Estate Selection Hawke’s Bay, The Circle Semillon 2004
We’d started with the wine in the lobby, but I’d been too busy shmoozing to take a glass. Luckily it carried through the first dish, and I was able to linger over a glass while waiting for the first course.
For a semillon it was darker than expected, and with an earthy nose. It hit the front of the palate, and then lingered around the edges, with a lot of citrus. It was clean and fresh, and made for a good opener, although it needed to be warmed up a bit so we could get more of the flavours out of it.
Herring! I like herring. And this was done in two ways atop a slab of that thickly dark black bread of the Nordic countries. The one half had a spicey horseradish sauce, while the other piece was a sweeter flavour, with almost a hint of plum in the background.
Beside it, in the middle, was a wonderful bit of gravlox. This had been done with fennel, dill, mustard seed, and then a good hit of vodka, giving it quite a different flavour. I’d asked Siggi about this, and he’d used vodka as a more neutral backing for the herbs, but if you wanted to increase this, then you could use aquavit instead, as it has many of the same flavours. It’s just a question of how intense you want it to be.
And third was the crispy langoustine tail. As Rona has said “frying is good”, and I’m not about to argue with her.
Arctic Charr with Langoustine Sauce and Julienne of Green Leeks
Sileni Cellar Selection, Marlborough, Sauvignon Blanc 2007
Siggi had introduced this fish as “if salmon is the King, then char is the pretty little princess”. It’s a much less intense fish, without the oil and strength of salmon, with a texture that pulls away in moist parcels of meat. The sauce, a cream with a strong langoustine flavour, was really, really good. This was a very nice dish, and I was looking forward to finding out how the sauce was made in the class.
The wine, a sauvignon blanc from their vineyards in the South Island, was, again, just too cold. It also wasn’t as citrusy as expected, atypical of the New Zealand sauvignon blancs. We asked Pip about this, and she said this was on purpose. They’d wanted to avoid the aggressiveness tart gooseberry flavour of many of the others from the Marlborough, as they mean their wines to be companions to the foods, rather than wines made to stand only as wines.
Baked Cod with Almond Crust
Sileni Estate Selection, North Ilsand, The Lodge Chardonnay 2006
Another fish, this one the mighty cod, cornerstone of Iceland’s economy. Siggi had encrusted it in a luminous alien coating of green, which did give a very nice crisp to the outside, while also imparting the flavour of the herbs and nuts.
Filet of Lamb and Lamb Sausage with Xéres Sauce and Sage
Sileni Satyr, Marlborough, Pinot Noir 2006
Iceland is very proud of its lamb. Siggi explained that the animals are all free range from the point of weaning, and that you’d be hard pressed to find a nicer lamb in all the world. Now, bear in mind he’s saying this with a New Zealander present (“We know a thing or two about sheep”).
It is a very good piece of lamb. Not a lot of excess fat (which I would’ve enjoyed) but very tender, and without any gaminess to it. The sauce, with a good quantity of sweet sherry in it, was likewise excellent, and the potatos, loaded with cream, finished off a perfect mouthful. He’d tempura’d a leaf of sage, and had some pretty little vegetables there as garnish.
The sherry in the sauce was a nice touch. Iceland was paid for the bacalao they delivered to Iberia with port in the old days, and so there’s been a good selection over the centuries for cooking and sipping.
The pinot noir was very interesting, not at all what Clark was expecting, as he’d had a number of New Zealand pinot noirs before, and was looking for that “funky” nose, what one of the others at our table referred to as “barnyard”. This one was very much about cherries, and very soft tannins. On it’s own it didn’t do much for us, but once we took it with the lamb it proved to be an excellent match, and the strengths of the wine came very much to the forefront once our other tastebuds were activated.
But I didn’t mention the sausage. As Siggi circulated at the bar and tables, a cry came up from behind us of “The sausage!”; obviously a (raucaus) vote of approval. This was packed with herbs and flavour, and, cut, was beautiful when soaked with the sauce.
With the meat finished, we took the opportunity to call back the earlier whites. These had had enough time out of the fridge now for the flavours to come out from hibernation, and the nose and the palate both improved a lot, making an even more agreeable splash in the mouth.
Blueberry Pie with Vanilla Skyr Ice cream
Sileni Estate Selection, Hawke’s Bay, Late Harvest Semillon 2004
Skyr, pronounced “ski-er”, is a fun ingredient for an ice cream. It’s like a mascarpone, or a thick, tart yogurt, and is a solid part of the Icelandic diet. And, if there’s a national berry, it’s the blueberry. Dress it up with strawberry and blackberry sauces, a bit of chocolate, and you’ve got a good finish.
They’d made the ice cream with minimal sugar, which made the dessert a better match for the Semillon, or the “sticky” as Pip called it. Very similar to a sauterne, this was a pretty thing, and one we were happy to call back to the table several times (I’m not shy).
But, I’m proud to say we weren’t last out of the restaurant. Mind you, part of that most of us were seriously flagging, and some serious sleep sounded like an excellent idea.
-
September 22 – A Final Diversion on the Road to the WGF
Kinnaree
As I’d mentioned, this first Monday of the WGF found me without a lunch class to occupy my time. But Bangkok is the great Waster of Time, so I had no fear of being left with nothing to do.
Waking up, for instance. That wasn’t an easy thing. When my eyes did become unglued, it was to find the angry red clock lights accusing me of it being 11:00 a.m. I took that as accurate advice, and washed, swam, and then did some writing.
And then the phone rang. My nephew, Clark, had arrived from Canada. Things were heating up. I called Ellen to see if she could do lunch at Kinnaree, as it’s quite convenient for her, then I took my jet-lagged groggy nephew in tow, and set off for a quick intro to the BTS and getting around.
Kinnaree was as I’d left it, which means beautifully laid out, and very quiet. I was very happy to be here this time, as, with Clark and Ellen, we could start ordering more. I’d felt bad about only having a handful of dishes last time, so I’d asked Ellen to start ordering, and we’d top up.
Sitting on the table were a nice yam som o and a krathong tong. The yam som o was, as always, enjoyable. How could it be anything else? In part I like that mix of sweetness and sour, although I find the pomelo here so much sweeter than what I can buy back home. For the other part, I can never approach this dish without thinking of the human effort that goes into separating all of the pieces of pomelo into their individual bits.
The krathong tong, those little waffle cups topped up with minced chicken and corn, and finished with that little bit extra that I like about Kinnaree, in this case a perfect leaf of coriander topped with one sliver of red chili.
When I was here last there were a number of items on the menu that looked tempting, but I’d limited myself by dining solo. Now I could give more play to the order.
This was my nephew’s first Thai meal in Thailand, so there were some things we had to do (besides yam som o). One was tom kha kai. The rich comfort of good chicken stock with coconut milk and galanga. A small drizzle of chili oil in the mix, but not that it would burn. This is more a soup of comfort than a full frontal assault.
They had Neur Pun Saparod – thin slices of meat wrapped around pineapple and grilled. How can you say anything bad about a pineapple?
And there were river prawns wrapped in pandan leaves – gung ho bai toey. The roasted pandan gave it that trademark smell as you unwrapped it, and then you had the soft, wet meat of the prawn itself, pulled away from the oversized head of the crustacean.
Sweetheart crab – a crab farci – was brought to us on a bed of fried noodles. Crab is always good like this when someone else does the work.
Hor mok pla salmon, while not traditional (I have yet to observe an annual salmon run up the Mekong or Chao Phrya – although the idea does have its attractions). This mousse of fish, crab, and prawns (or whatever is at hand) was soft and pliable inside, the little dab of coconut cream giving it a little push to the moist side. I lusted after this dish, too, I must admit.
And, finally, I had one of the vegetarian dishes. Ellen had enjoyed these last time, so we ordered up the lamb massaman – a rich curry with lumps of what appeared to be lamb. This was vegetable protein, but molded and coloured to look like a hunk of lamb. Buried in the thick yellow massaman sauce, it did pass as something a carnivore would look enjoy. I wish the photo for this had worked out, but my camera skills devolve by the day.
We were doing well. I was still awake and Clark was only slightly groggy. We had to get back to the Four Seasons so we made our farewells, and headed for the BTS.
Next: The WGF Begins
-
Aside: An Explanation, Not An Excuse
By now a few of you may be asking "Where's the WGF in this?"
There'd been a change of schedule to the WGF, with the start being pushed back to Monday. And with Monday, there'd be no lunchtime class, only the opening dinner.
But that's okay. As I'd said, there were plenty of places to eat, and I wanted to get some good Thai food in me before settling into the alternative cuisines of the WGF.
So, bear with me for one more Thai meal, a lunch, and then we'll get into the functions.
Next: One More Thai Meal
-
September 21 – Diversion
I’d told myself not to close my eyes. I’d made myself promise not to look at the inside of my eyelids…..
One of the problems with talking to yourself all the time is you stop paying attention.
I closed my eyes.
When I woke up, it was 7:30, and I’d missed canapés in the lounge. My dinner plans for the evening had fallen through earlier, when people I’d hoped to be meeting were hung up in Shanghai.
What would I eat?
This is Bangkok. There’s always something to eat.
Back near Asoke and Sukhuvit, there’d been an interesting looking stall I’d passed a couple of times when I was staying near there in July. That would do quite nicely.
This stall had drawn my attention for two reasons:
First, the innovative lighting solution. There’s something just a little jarring about a naked fluorescent tube, and this sarong of noodle wrapper just took the edge off.
And second, of course, were the ingredients. On a bed of ice there were river prawns, crabs, cockles, squid, oysters, and, of course hot dogs.
Hot dogs just fit in so well.
But what I was really looking for was the offal. They had a nice pile of pig intestine over to one side, and my heart (and liver, spleen, and perhaps one kidney) were set on guts.
They came out boiled, with hunks of fat still clinging to them, resistant to the wash. A nice appetizer, chewy and greasy, with fresh vegetables to aid in the digestion.
Kent Wang had raised the question awhile back as to Where's the offal in Thai cuisine?
For some reason, while it’s readily available here, you don’t see it on the menus outside of Thailand (often).
Cockles are always a good choice, so I had a plate of these, mouths agape and orange tongues spiting me to eat them (which I did).
Squid in basil over rice was meant to fill me out, and went partway to accomplishing that task. A good, solid burn to this, with enough chilis to satisfy, but not to put it over the top.
But this standard prep gave me an idea. I went back and asked for more of the entrails, but this time fried in the same manner.
This worked admirably well. The frying took away more of the fat, and firmed up the intestinal walls, and the burn from the extra chilis in this woke me up enough.
At least awake enough to grab a cab and get back home. I needed to close my eyes.
Next: Day 1 – Almost
-
September 21 – Going the Distance
It was 9:00 a.m., and I was checking in. The critical thing is not to let my eyes close. That would be bad, as they wouldn’t be coming open again until after a dozen or so hours of sleep.
I don’t know about you, but (with one unfortunate exception at the Capital Grille in Houston) it is difficult for me to nod off while eating. Thus, once I’d cleaned off most of the air travel from me, brunch was the perfect solution.
I’d recently covered the brunch in detail, so I won’t regurgitate it fully here.
While a buffet is one of those few meals that works solo (what with the coming and going) it is infinitely more fun when there’s good company. So I was very happy that Ellen (FlyingRat) could join me. She hadn’t done the brunch here before, so that made it even more fun, as the sharing of good things is one of life’s pleasures.
Dining with fellow eGulleters is enjoyable as there’s no need to hold back in terms of food geeking. I held forth on my brunch position – that it’s as much an event as a meal – and one to be extended and savoured.
For that reason, it’s important as to how you stage the dishes.
(I’ll keep the photos down to the items that I hadn’t done before.)
I’d done the wise thing, and ignored the airplane breakfast. The Thai stewardess was a little concerned, but when I told her I was saving my appetite for Bangkok, she agreed quite readily.
To open, I went for a Bloody Mary. Given my run down state, it seemed wise to be healthy and start with something vegetarian. I know, a tomato really is a fruit, not a vegetable, but I was too hungry to quibble.
Then I began on the cold seafood. This works well, as the effort of deshelling slows down the frenzy that can otherwise break out, and the chill on the food can numb your appetite a bit, allowing you to hold back from immediate peaking.
The seafood selection had been enhanced with the addition of razor clams. In counter to the soft yielding flesh of the scallops, these provided a nice chewiness. The oysters, with their thin mucalness, the flake of the crab, and the meatiness of the prawn filled in the notches in the textural spectrum.
The Bloody Mary finished about halfway through the seafood (linger over the food, but ensure you stay hydrated) and so I continued with fruit, calling for a glass of chardonnay. It’s a lazy choice, but I’m a lazy fellow, and I didn’t want to complicate things just yet.
Back to food, the next move was to provide lubrication to facilitate the movement of food in the system. While motor oil does the job for a car’s engine, something else is required for the human body. Luckily, Nature has addressed this issue with the miracle we call foie gras….okay, the French call it that, but it sounds a lot better than just saying “duck liver”.
As a set I had a foie gras sausage, the foie gras custard (a cheerful bowl of yellow goodness), and, of course, three slabs of the seared foie gras. This, I feel, is an integral element in any good breakfast.
Next, I broke with tradition, and in a rather daring move, went for the grill early. I’d been mentally wrestling with this choice for some time, as my normal tactic is to put off the meats for later, as the harder to digest protein can fill you up and get in the way of other foods.
But my rationing was that too often I don’t have enough craving (or space) left in the final stretches of the brunch, and can’t really do justice to the meats. By taking it early, it might cost me a bit in the intermediate stage, but with three hours to go, I felt that I would have overcome this initial setback.
Still, restraint is the key to surviving a brunch. I passed the chefs my order. I took only a slice of the roast pork, which called to me with the twinkle of its crackling. Apple sauce, unlooked for but most welcome, came in a dollop on one end to hold the pig in place. I asked for the smallest chunk of tuna they had, and had that lightly seared and presented with a cream sauce, and then indulged in a lamb chop.
With an Australian Syraz in hand, I worked steadily through the plate. The result was a success, with only a bit of the edge of my appetite dulled. But with this out of the way, I could dally over the various sundries.
I ordered some sashimi, looking for the cold freshness together with the nose-cleaning properties of wasabi to rejuvenate me. Octopus, tuna, salmon, and mackeral did nicely for me, paired with a martini that I’d asked them to deliver when the fish was served.
While I waited for the sashimi to arrive, I went heavy again with a plate of grilled eel, using a steamer of Chinese sumai (dumpling) to lighten things up. Feeling the need for a vegetarian element in advance of the martini, I opted for another Bloody Mary.
The sashimi brought me up to the surface, and I was feeling generally human by this point.
Ellen’s company helped, too, as it gives you a reason to kick back for a few minutes from time to time and compare notes, giving your body time to regenerate the enthusiasm you need to make it through a brunch of this sort.
I’m on record as having a weak spot for sausages, and so the Thai station lured me in with cheerful little sai krod grilling over charcoal. With this there were also chicken meatballs, which looked to be worth a try. The moo ping (pork satay) also looked good, and they had miang kam in a shot glass, the ingredients heavily loaded with a sweet syrup which held everything together. I usually only add a couple of drops – but I couldn’t argue with what they’d done here, it made it much more of a “sweet” than usual, which helped with the generous use of chilis in the sai krod.
I was beginning to flag, but there was still an hour. Just as oil should be topped up from time to time, I realized that what I needed was more foie gras. But this time it was only three slabs of the pan seared, with a flute of Jeanne D’Arque sparkling to revive me.
I chased that with a half dozen oysters, and that was enough to pull me back from the edge, the chill snapping me awake.
The incident had taught me caution. I’d do better with the cold dishes now, and keep the quick energy of fat close at hand. With another glass of syraz in hand, I turned to the cheeses and charcouterie. While indulging in the full fat experience of good, runny cheese I had time to linger and talk some more, and the carnal red of the meats kept me alert enough to keep functioning.
Next was a plate of the Four Seasons smoked salmon. It was good, but I’m a Vancouverite snob about such things, and still have my preferences. I loaded up on marinated mushrooms, and took heart in some artichokes.
We were approaching the final stretches. Madison was beginning to empty, now only perhaps half full, and there was just another half hour on the clock. I ordered a final plate of the foie gras, and then turned my thoughts to dessert.
As you know, I’m not a “dessert guy”. But everything looks so pretty, and the sight of the Grand Marnier bottle by a crepe pan was enough to get me excited.
I took the crepes with fresh mango and a scoop of vanilla ice cream. A glass of the sparkling gave a nice edge to the sweetness on my plate.
This left only a pair of puddings and some chocolate truffles between myself and the finish. Ellen asked for some coffee, and I, in turn, ordered a final martini, this one gin with a twist of lemon.
And there we were, safely through the process, emergent on the other side none the worse for wear.
Okay, I might’ve become a little bigger…….but travel is meant to be broadening.
Next: Disaster Strikes
-
WGF9
Like most of my stories, this one starts in a bar. In an airport. Waiting.
The great curse of modern travel is that we spend so much time not moving. We wait in lines for security, we wait in lines for check-in, we wait in lines for customs, and then we amble about aimlessly waiting for our aircraft to be ready to strap us in for that modern-equivalent of the Iron Maiden.
I was starting out in a good mood, you can tell. At least I had a cold Fosters to get me through prayer time.
Air travel aside, this promises to be a good trip. I’ll have two weeks in Bangkok, the first eight days tied up in the WGF and its precursor – brunch – and then a little less than a week on the tail end in which to further luxuriate in the hedonism that passes itself off as the capitol of Thailand.
Politics are still playing themselves out. The coup has not not yet come to a head, the prime minister has stepped down, being found guilty of cooking while on the job (Khun Samak had continued to play host on a culinary program), the PAD was still protesting – they’re just not certain what, the ex-prime minister had sold Manchester City, but he and the missus didn’t look to be coming back to visit yet, but he wasn’t too concerned as his brother-in-law was now put forward as the new PM.
I love this town.
There, my mood's reversed (as is my location, now)
I have today and half of tomorrow to my own devices. Such devices, of course, will include brunch. Dinner is still a matter of conjecture.
So many meals, so little time.
-
Serena and I have been having fun with herbs and spices - mint, basil, kaffir lime leaf, lemon grass, galanga, and cinnamon (which almost tasted like ginger), and sichuan peppercorn.
Yoonhi won't let us do fish sauce (nampla)......
-
To expand the topic a bit, the rise of "coloured" rice is in part tied in to health consciousness.
I know that brown, purple, and black rices are in favour with the Koreans, particularly the older folks as they're considered to be healthier.
It's also fashionable in Thailand to serve purple and black rices with meals, again seen as a "health conscious" choice.
Me, I like the crunchier chewier rices with some dishes. I find brown rice - or better yet, black - with it's nuttier background - goes well with grilled salmon. (and I do like that colour contrast)
But does that mean I'm going to start wearing comfortable shoes?
-
Thank you very much for this, Erin!
I'd been looking at my Popeye coaster with longing these last few weeks, wishing there was something cold and frosty on top of it, and your pictures and descriptions are a reasonable substitute (okay, I'd still like a cold one!)
There wasn't as much in the way of barley wines. I was surprised, as they'd made up a fair percentage of the product at Popeye when I'd been tasting my way through there (they were Scud's favourites).
And I was extremely happy to see Beer Lao make a cameo! Did they only bring the dark, or was the regular there, too?
Cheers!
Peter
-
However if your question relates to the unique organoleptic qualities as well as to the definite cultural, even historical dimension that could be expected from the products and dishes served at a top-end kaiseki meal, the idea of terroir could perhaps be relevant, but terroir is not a style of cooking.
The meals I'd enjoyed were very much about ingredients taken in the season, with emphasis upon the specific locale, and about the proper matching of flavours to bring out the natural highlights in a meal. As kaiseki is the meal, and not the technique, then I think we're in agreement.
Likewise, would this also encompass the term of "regionality" that I see in Western Canadian restaurants, where they try to source their ingredients as locally as possible (Sooke Harbour House being an example?)
-
Does "terroir" in a French restaurant then equate to what we would expect from a top end Kaiseki in Tokyo?
-
The Missus and the Boy used ATG-Oxford to do a walking tour through Northern Italy a few years back. Service was good, the choice of lodgings was good, and the food was good.
Other friends of ours have used them on more than one occasion, so they're fairly consistent.
Peter
Korean restaurants in Japan
in Japan: Dining
Posted
Kimchi chiggae, definitely.
One of the finest breakfast dishes on this planet (in my opinion, if not the people breathing next to me).