robert brown

I had the allegedly good fortune of being invited for lunch at Le Bernadin ( or, as I enjoy calling it, "The Bernadin of Iniquity") earlier this month. Therefore, I couldn't bust the maitre d's chops to try to improve my lot, as is my wont, because I didn't want to offend my generous host. I have to say, nonetheless, that I was somewhat appaled to have to chose as my main course among so many farmed fish fillets. In fact, the only whole wild fish was red snapper that you had to order a day ahead. It was difficult not to think that the choice was the same as what you can buy at Citarella's, Dorian's or Whole Foods. I also found that the sauces on my halibut filet and octopus starter were overly-complex, muddled and sweet. Coupled from what I heard from someone in the profession that the microwave gets a good workout there, I'm not returning until the next person, whomever it may be, invites me there, whenever that may be.

Now that Phil Rizzuto's gone, you might not hear about them anymore.

I returned today from six on-and-off weeks at my house near Lee and Stockbridge during which we, as we have done for some decades, endeavored to get the most out of eating out in the Berkshires. We fared a little better this summer. First to update some information, Verdura is indeed closed, replaced by some bistro-looking place we instinctively avoided. Pearl's, which is katty-corner, has declined preceipitously. I say to avoid it. Marvin's, sandwiched in-between the two is not the best breakfast place. Jill's in Lee, at the shoping center before you hit the main drag coming from the Mass. Pike is funkier andd better. Better even than the infamous Joe's Diner at the other end of the main drag. Speaking of Shiro's, on Route 7 outside of Gt. Barrington as you come from Stockbridge, is worthwhile for its lobster soup. The sushi is mediocre at best, but overall we like it better than Bizen on Railroad St. which we found to be an abomination. On the same stretch of Route 7, Aegean Breeze is acceptable. They have whole fish, but, alas, farmed with all the negative aspects that such implies. However, you can do okay with the appetizers and meat dishes. Betty's pizza in Lenox is quite okay. The pies' crust are medium-thick and the toppings decent. The decor is West Coast, Hawaiian trashy and very funky. It never seems jammed and the food comes without untoward delay. Our biggest surprise and best meal was lunch at Edith Wharton's, aka "The Mount".This "simple, limited-offering" cafe on the terrace with a terrific view was a revelation. The ingredients of the salade Nicoise were impeccable and the soups and sandwiches ingenious. The blackcurrent tart was a triumph as well. We asked who prepared their food and the manager said it came from Amy Loveless who does catering from her home in West Stockbridge. We wasted little time in giving her a call to pay a visit and pick up a delicious dinner we had at home with friends that had as its main course a marvelous chicken Marbella. She may be the only person cooking in the Berkshires who bends over backwards to get the best ingredients, traveling a good distance to various farms in the Hudson Valley. She gave us the names and said there were two restaurants in Pittsfield she liked. I'll check my notes and pass them along later. Perhaps I'll add some more words about other spots we visited this summer. By the way, the Mount or the Edith Wharton Restoration, is in Lenox. It costs $20. for a guided tour and $18. to see it on your own. Just make sure you go when you want to have lunch. The tour is interesting, but I suspect that seeing it on your own may be the best as there is a short film and an adequately-detailed brochure they hand out. If you spend a lot of time in the area, you can buy a season's pass for $75. good for a calendar yeat (even though The Mount is open only for five months. Then you can lunch to your heart's content.)

John, meet me at dawn at Pere Lachaise. Don't forget your pistol. I'm sure you know a lot more about obsessions than I do, but I have to say that I avoid food out of season except when needed to make an overall dish I might be in the mood for. I could carry on non-stop about how the foodie boom has actually planted the seeds of the steady erosion of gastronomy as some of us used to know it. The example above in which Ptipos cites the phenomenon I only noticed last year at the Carrefour or Lafayette Gourment of industrial food producers packaging their wares to give the impression of artisinal food is a tellling one, as is people in the food press who say how wonderful it is that so many foods are available year round. Best I stop here on what could be a book-length subject.

fortedei, I figured you come through. I really appreciate the detailed and knowledgeable reply, as I am sure many other do. I loved both the comparison and the gossip, both of which I am sure are "right on".

I can imagine now why there's no website up for the Hotel Imperiale. Perhaps it's a renegotiation going on with Lorenzo since his daughter didn't rule out the possibility of her father ever moving into the hotel. She made it sound as if it were rather a long shot. Four years ago I went to the trattoria near La Buca, Da Ivan, that R.W. Apple wrote about. Is there anyone here who can compare the two?

How long is the Cow Pie aged for? Are we talking about any producer in Normandie who makes Camembert fermier and ages it less than 60 days? The Camembert I bought in Alsace was as good as it gets especially coming at the best time of year for this cheese. Seasonality still exists for what I imagine will be the foreseeable future, even if in a diminishing capacity.

Zibello is where it's from. It's my mistake. I got it mixed up with the song from Brigadoon, "How are Things in Gloczebello?"

Judith, I asked Lorenzo if it was a national or a local law. He said it was regional. You hit the nail on the head.

As much as I wanted to visit untried restaurants this time, we only had time, other than our usual two at Lorenzo, to have two other meals. We made an easy choice after checking in for the third time to the early 20th-century, atmospheric Hotel Villa Ariston in Lido di Camaiore, of returning to the down-to-earth, rock-hard traditional Trattoria La Darsena. It’s in the Darsena area of Viareggio, which is “the other side of the tracks” of this large resort town, which is devoted to various maritime businesses ( boat building, yacht support,etc.) We adore this restaurant for its honesty, generosity and economical prices. Susan ordered only the fritto misto which didn’t come off as well as the grigiliata mista that I chose for us, memorable for a whole cuttlefish, octopus, langoustine and an unnamed white fish.. Neither, however, matched the seafood antipasti presented in two servings, among them terrific cold anchovies in a vinaigrette; octopus and potatoes, polenta with minced red mullet and tomato, a puree of codfish and a frittata of dentice. La Darsena is a diamond in the rough, possibly more festive at dinner than it was during our lunch, for which we arrived on the late side, and served by a no-nonsense woman who had her hands full with several other customers. Our first visit at dinnertime was more spontaneous, with the boss just bringing one plate after another, Either way, it doesn’t matter. This is a wonderful address that’s hard to go wrong in. Stuffed to the gills after lunch at Lorenzo, we settled for pizza and calzone in the main square of Forte at a big joint called La Boccaccio, and some gelati at the upscale caffee/gelateria nearby. The comparison to Grom’s gelato on New York’s Upper West Side comparison is inevitable. The Caffe Principe pistachio won hands down, but the chocolate was not noticeably superior. Does it mean that Grom is typical quality by Italian standards? Our two meals at Lorenzo turned up a few chinks in the armor during our second meal, a lunch, but hardly anything that changes our immensely-favorable opinion. This time the culatello di Zimora was less gamey and more salty than the perfect ones we have had here twice before. Having asked Lorenzo if we could have anchovies for this second meal, the ones he procured (possibly from his wine bar/restaurant around the corner) were inferior to the ones we had at La Darsena. Still, his chef prepared them three ways, served in three courses: the classic tapas or antipasto way; gratineed; and roasted. The preparations of the two warm courses were splendid. The final chink was at dinner the night before when I unknowingly made a mistake of ordering chocolate gelato which wasn’t on the menu or part of any desserts, with the result being that it tasted some days old and was icy. Our dining for the two meals was a mixture of the tried and true and expanding our knowledge of the fixed repertoire. As it’s a must to begin with crudo, I chose personal favorites, these being tartars of tuna and Spanish sea bream; langoustines, and a slice of Spanish sea bream( pagello). Susan had a simple, but impeccably-fresh piece of branzino served with roasted potatoes. We followed on with two Michelin specialties. One, the Bavette sul Pesce or a long, thin, flat pasta came with pieces of langoustine, cuttlefish and dentice. This was easily the most memorable seafood pasta I have had, with the bavette coated in a richness that seemed like butter, but obviously was olive oil. Susan’s Souffle di Fagioli di Sorana con Scampi e Fonduta di Zucca may be as ‘haute cuisine” as it gets at Lorenzo. Scampi and langoustine sit on a bed of fagioli with a flan-shaped “fonduta”, which has the texture and shape of a panna cota, made with pumpkin squash and rosemary was delicious. We make it almost a ritual to have once on every trip to Lorenzo the boiled langoustines served with mayonnaise that Lorenzo or Luigi, his maitre d’hotel prepares at the table. The langoustines (ten to an order) are always impeccable. We also fitted on a order of six “specials” and six prairie clams. The oysters were, even though late in the season, were as good as the ones we had in February. Two corrections from my post of a few months ago: Lorenzo will be staying put after all, at least for the foreseeable future. According to some regional statue that I can’t figure out since there are several hotel-restaurants open to all, Lorenzo would not be permitted to serve anyone not staying at the new Hotel Imperiale where he was planning on moving his restaurant. His daughter Ciara told us that she wants her father to stay where he has been for 30 years. Now it looks like he will. Second, I was right the first time about the price of the 750 ml. bottle of Oliviero Toscani’s olive oil. It is 26 euros. In any event the production is sold out. As they used to say in Brooklyn, “Wait ‘til next year.”

WHS. I went to both in February. I'm in Nice now and am thinking of revisiting both, especially since the second component of Jouni-La Reserve (the expensive, more ambitious second floor) is now open. I think I posted that lunch on the ground floor, which is the bistro part, is a good deal if you are willing to eat the no-choice meal. Dinner and a la carte can be good. Jouni (pronouced "yow-nee") is a quite good chef. The refurbished Art Deco quarters are worth the visit in themselves. Mirazur may be the closest to a culinary "buzz" in-the-vicinity restaurant in the present-day, what's happening now sense. I posted that I had a mixed experience. It's worth going to since the young Argentine chef here is being followed and has a good pedigree. I am quite certain I'll give it another go.

Don't overlook the lynchpin of great eating, which is seafood. I love the Ligurian and Northern Tuscan coast for this reason. (Venice, too). Quality and freshness will vary, so do some research right here.

Bu Pun Su, Colmar is the nearest town, which I assume has good train service. From there you would need to hire a taxi for the fairly short ride (12 km., I seem to recall). Perhaps if you spent the night at the Auberge de L'Ill, management would come and get you. They should, given what they charge for rooms.

John, I haven't got a lot to go on in terms of comparing his product to others. The one other I am most familiar with is Edouard Ceneri who has a store in Cannes which I don't like very much. I think he often puts his cheeses out for sale before they are ready, and I find his wife (I'm pretty sure it's his wife) pushy, aggressive and not truthful. When I was there in late February or early March, it was the start of the season for fresh goat cheeses. When I asked her if she had any, she pointed to a cheese that had clearly been made months before, perhaps with frozen curds. It had that waterlogged appearance of goat cheeses that you see out of season or back home. Ceneri also offers almost nothing unusual or from very small producers.. On the other hand, Antony is just a down-to-earth fellow with no pretense and a spirit of generosity. When I ordered from him last year, he was very mindful of the risk in shipping cheese overnight and his son warned me away from any cheese that might be compromised. Perhaps all affineurs would do that, I don't know, never having had cheese shipped to me before. I'm not a big fan of mold cheeses, but his Bleu de Termignan is something special. I prefer generally young, soft cow's milk cheese and almost all goat cheeses, which are what Antony handles impoeccably. We bought some yogurt that Antony sells that comes from a colleague. It's really good yogurt. When I went to the website http://www.pascalbeillevaire.net/of this man, I was turned off by the commercism of his enterprise. Antony, however, keeps his business limited to ageing the most interest cheeses in France. If you believe that modesty usually goes hand-in-hand with integrity, then a visit will likely warm your heart and edify your soul.

Thank you so much, Margaret and John. Basel or Mulhouse are the nearest cities to Antony. Mulhouse I don't know at all. Basel I like quite a bit, though it's not a great culinary town. We like the food departments in the Globus department stores in Geneva and Basel, however. Antony mentions on his site a cheese ceremony he has on Wednesdays, though I can't imagine people really showing up for it since no one else came to his door when we were there. As best I can tell, it's a cheese and wine pairing event. You may want to ask him about it if you plan to go on a Wednesday.

You're right, Judith. No one ever asked about food allergies, either. I guess they figure if you would die from eating peanuts, you would mention it. Ameiden, have you gotten around to trying the new dishes? How is the souffle of salmon? I'll never forget Chapel's souffle de barbue. I wonder if they are similar. Did anyone ever tell you that you look a lot like Fernand Point?

Whoever the God (or Godess) of Food is, he (or she) looked after us in memorable style. We forced ourselves out of bed at 5;45 and landed in Basel at 9:15 to collect a car and drive into town for some cigar buying and lunch at the Kunsthalle dining room with friends. It’s a mediocre, overpriced restaurant, as we have always known it to be for over 20 years. Yet, it’s one of the more agreeable places in town, maybe the only one other than Donati. Its outstanding attribute is that it’s one of the few restaurants that still has a chariot of desserts, although we didn’t avail ourselves of it. We left town right after and drove to Colmar to the charming and historic Hotel des Tetes. At 8:00 we arrived at L’Auberge de L’Ill for our first visit since 1976. Of course the magnificent setting alongside the river hasn’t change for the worse. In fact, it looked even better with the addition across the bridge of a hotel. Jean-Pierre Haeberlin is still roaming the dining rooms and terraces, looking close to 90 and half out of touch. When he stopped at our table, I told him about our first visit in which we sat at a communal table (the Siberia of the place) and served by women in traditional Alsatian garb. Now the Auberge is big business. A large group had gathered along the banks of the river having drinks and I guess they all dined in a large second dining room. Not surprising, the ratio of dining room staff to diner seems to have been cut by more than half if you measure it against the provincial three-stars of the 1980s. We had one waiter who seemed to do every chore for us and the diners in the immediate vicinity, such that we never saw our sommelier after he took our order. As we imagined we would, we ordered as if it were 1976 all over again. We began with the terrine of goose liver and the Mousseline de Grenouilles “Paul Haeberlin”. The terrine was classic and first rate, simply served with one mediocre piece of brioche toast. The mousseline brought back memories not just of that dish but the kind of cooking that has all but vanished. (Of course we thought of Chapel’s legendary Gateau du Foie Blond.) My comment after the first taste was that this is the kind of dish you no longer see. As important to me, it confirmed that my sense of taste has changed little, that the glory years didn’t end because of any reason other than shortcutting and other economies of scale, and that, thank God, there was still a place you could go to have a succulence and richness that still, if barely, survives. The mousseline itself was heavier than it should have been and there was a tell-tale browning at the bottom. But so what!!! The several nuggets of frog inside were delicious and the sauce soul-warming. My wife’s main course of roasted baby pig, a loin and small chop, far exceeded any pieces of pork we have had in recent times. The chop was superior; its skin was crisp and crackling, but not lacquered and thick such that you couldn’t cut it easily with a knife, which you could do with this one. My wife called this dish “masterful”. As it was the start of the deer-hunting season, I ordered the noisettes de chevreuil. It arrived a bit more cooked than what I would have liked, but not worth asking for a do-over, especially since the red wine sauce was rich and profound. I wasn’t taken by the croquettes of potatoes, but a bouquet of mushrooms (mousserons, perhaps?) and the puree of beets were splendid and perfectly matched. Although we were mindful that the next day was to be dedicated to cheese (see my post below), we looked at the chariot of cheeses and gave into temptation. I guessed that since the restaurant was closed the two days previous, the cheeses must have all been freshly replaced. We couldn’t recall a choice as impeccably ripe, and I, in particular, made the most of it. We shared a dessert that was not great, but still acceptable. a triangular pastry filled with an almond crème patissiere, accompanied by both fresh and carmelized cherries, and a small serving of yogurt ice cream. Including a 145 euro bottle of 2000 Chambolle-Musigny “Les Charmes” from Amiot, the check came to 449 euros. Even at that, it was money well-spent for culinary reincarnation. Our feeling is, however, that the Auberge is not a “you hardly can go wrong” type of place. We felt that we eked out a great meal owing to our experience and remembrances of a prior visit. Many of the dishes (filets were much in evidence) struck us in written form as banal and the fixed menus seemed unexciting. Nonetheless we plan on returning and discovering empirically for ourselves.

Bernard Antony’s street address, 5 rue de la Montagne, in southern Alsace due west of Basel, conjures up a bucolic, isolated setting, perhaps even with cows on the property. Yet the truth is that he lives on a short, small road of rather close-together houses within a stone’s throw of a village with no character, Vieux-Ferrett. Antony’s house, however, identified only by a small carved wood sign above the front door stating “Sundgauer Kasekellar” is spacious and more Alsatian in design than those of most of his neighbors. He has a small parking area in front where, having arrived a few minutes before Antony reopens after lunch and our reservation time for a cheese degustation, we sat in the car and waited. Precisely at 2:00, Jean-Francois Antony, Bernard’s son, signaled us to come in where we were shown to the tasting room where his father greeted us. Apparently Bernard thought at first we were American neophytes in search of adding a renown culinary name we could say we visited in spite of our having ordered a couple of shipments from him the year before. Our two plates with about a dozen little slices of different cheeses fanned were quickly identified for us by Antony. He then showed me a paper with just a couple of half-bottles of wine we could have with the cheese, and then went and retrieved my selection of an Alsatian Pinot Noir before leaving us to ourselves. We quickly finished the cheese plate, after which I started to look at the rather large collection of wine for sale spaced around the room. When Antony returned, I commented about his interesting selection, at which point he retrieved for me a very thick album that was a combination scrap book with photos of him with his family, friends and various gastronomic luminaries and a lengthy list of the wines he had for sale. My interest in his wines provoked a shift in his attitude, as from then for another hour we discussed recent culinary history, restaurants and chefs we liked, gastronomy in American and Italy, followed by advice about the mixed case of wines I wished to buy. My wife had returned to the reception area where Jean-Francois stood behind a typical cheese counter that contained several, but hardly all, of what you can purchase. Even though Antony doesn’t allow casual visitors to his ageing rooms, we could see a section of them from where we stood. Jean-Francois put our cheese in a carton which arrived intact with our luggage at the Nice Airport. Since then we have finished off the extraordinary and scarce Bleu de Termignon, which is made by one woman in the Savoie; a Chevre du Tarn; most of a Camembert (it being the peak time of year for this cheese); and my favorite among our purchase, a Saint-Felicien with a delicacy, butteriness and hint of sweetness that can only be tasted here in France. We adore Antony’s Comte (this one from 2003) which is the cheese he’s best known for; and are waiting to unwrap a Galette de Chartreuse, a firm, chalky goat cheese. Even if you have nowhere in France to keep a variety of cheese for several days, a visit to Antony’s is worth a significant detour. In such circumstances, bypass his normal degustation as the pieces on the plate are too small to sink your teeth into in order to get the full brunt. Instead (and I don’t think Antony would mind) I recommend buying small cheeses or smallish portions of larger cheeses and eat them in the degustation room, as well as buying a half or whole bottle of wine from his inventory to have with it. This should allow for enjoying to the maximum one of the most compelling and memorable culinary stops in the world.

From time to time words don't jump into my head, even if swords do. This is one of those times. I'm sorry I didn't and couldn't do more in the forum of the coountry I love the most for culinary good times. I appreciate the kind words from my long-time eGullet pals, just about every one I've met and dined with here and abroad. Most of all, I'm not voluntarily going elsewhere and plan to continue my curmudgeonly and zealous contributions.

I find the Oyster Bar useful as a prelude to a knish or some other food at some other restaurant (usually Menchenko Tei around the corner which doesn't serve knishes, but I couldn't resist the pun). I meet up with friends and we'll sit at the bar and order an assortment of oysters. All are farmed (but getting them wild is all but impossible anywhere you go) and in a game of hit and miss, it's mostly misses. I stick to the oysters from Long Island and points north. Even though one in four or five may have a lot of liquor and taste fresh and profound, the exercise is nonetheless fun. Sometimes you even strike up an interesting conversation with a stranger at the next seat. I've tried the oyster stew, pan roast and the New England clam chowder, none of which are very profound or flavorful. I think you have to be nuts to eat any fish there.

I had the bad racing luck of being behind a couple with three kids who put on a distasteful display of conspicuus consumption. What started out what seemed to be a normal order of the gelato for immediate eating turned into a seemingly unending orgy of ordering large containers to take home. All I wanted was to buy two medium size containers to eat at one of the tables in the back, such that what should have been a 15-minute wait in line became 25. Was it worth the wait, though? Certainly it was, given even my curmudgeonly nature and reasonably experienced gelati eating in Northern and Central Italy. I made sure to order two of my benchmark flavors, chocolate (the dark one here) and pistachio, along with yogurt and cappucinno. My wife and I agreed this was upper-echelon material, rivaled only by what you can buy at Eli's Manhattan or EAT (and for that I plan a head-to-head tasting in the near future even though it's gelato vs. ice cream and sorbet)). Grom certainly puts to shame anything else I have had in New York. The pistachio wasn't as good as that of my man Sergio in San Gimignano, for example, and my wife thought there was something added that pumped up the flavor of the dark chocolate and the cappucinno. But no matter. We're lucky to have such a treat in town. Although the gelato is expensive, you should make up the difference by laying off the highly-regulated and mainly insipid cheese up the street at Zabar's.

Peter, thanks for the update. I have only been to I Bologna once and enjoyed it very much. One should add that the Bologna here is the late wine man Giacomo's brother. A visit to the restaurant gets you a private and thorough visit through the winery. As for Renzo, I can't think of any better restaurant in Piemonte. At truffle time, it's extraordinary and the one that I make a point of visiting on all fall trips. Last year, as a matter of fact, it was the only one. I have had one great meal followed by a disastrous meal at Centro. You seem to have had one somewhere in between. Dare I try to go again?

Like everyone else, my wife is fed up with drying salad greens in the salad spinner. She wants to know if anyone has one of the Dynamic electric ones and he or she thinks of it.

Is there anyone who can update this situation?

AGM, I have had lunch and dinner in the spanking new La Reserve de Nice. I'll try to post on it at length. For your information, though, lunch is an interesting time to go. Bear in mind that only what will be the bistro part of the restaurant is open where it is serving the same formula as Jouni's old place, which is a limited choice menu at a fixed price; i.e. appetizer, main course and cheese or dessert for 65 euros. At lunch there is a plat du jour and a dessert for 30 euros. Today it was an individual bouilliabaisse and a lemon tartlet with strawberry sorbet. The bouilliabaisse was better than any of the dishes we had last night. Book ahead for lunch. It was virtually sold out today. The interior retains the original Art Deco design and the setting right on the bay is marvelous. This may be the classiest place between Nice and Beaulieu. From Villefranche follow the Basse Corniche until you must turn.(If you could go straight, you would end up in at the gates of my house!!) Then take the left road at the end of the Century 21 realtor and follow the road, Avenue Jean Lorrain. After a few hundred meters, you'll be at the restaurant.