When Bad Things Happen to Good Tomatoes (and the People Who Love Them)

by Mika Chall

On the Friday of Labor Day weekend, the symbolic end to the fastest summer season in recent memory, we queued at the Coffee Bar Pop Up for what we anticipated would be a delicious, five-course dinner celebrating the quintessential taste of summer: heirloom tomatoes.  We opted for the 6:30 dinner and were seated promptly. It was downhill from there.

Heirloom Tomatoes
Courtesy Laurel’s Heirloom Tomato Plants, heirloomtomatoplants.com

At 7:45 we received our amuse, caprese molecular―small spheres of tomato and mozzarella dressed in a balsamic sauce. The molecular gastronomy involved cheese oozing from the center as it was cut. My ooze was sadly lacking.

Looking around the restaurant, it was clear from all the frenetic activity that the room was critically understaffed. The servers were navigating the space like characters from Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, or at the very least, whirling dervishes. But their energy and sincere desire to be efficient and cheerful couldn’t compensate for the fact that there were just too few of them. Another 15 minutes had passed before we finally surrendered to reality and opted out of ordering the wines that were offered as the dinner pairing. Instead, we walked to the downstairs bar, ordered from the café’s wine list and served ourselves.  Unfortunately, the very appealing rosé we ordered was warm because of a refrigeration problem that had not been dealt with, but that’s another story.

Our appetizer was Dungeness crab salad with ahi carpaccio, tomato gelée and avocado mousse. The dish was quite ordinary; the tomato gelee played a small, supporting role.

The soup that followed, Brandywine tomato gazpacho, with cucumber, roasted chili peppers and shaved almonds, was excellent.  The roasted chili added a potent kick to the sweetness of the Brandywines. Surprisingly, at a celebration of heirlooms, this was the only course in which the type tomato was actually identified.

Our main course, Australian lamb two ways: loin and shoulder, fingerling potato puree, tomato confit and jus, arrived at room temperature.  It took another 10 minutes to request and receive the necessary cutlery and by then, the food had gotten even colder.  The shoulder was tender, but the loin was tough and resisted all efforts to be cut.  The accompaniments were not memorable.

At nine-ish we were served a dessert described as caramel apple, which consisted of a green tomato that served as a receptacle for ice cream and walnut crumble. It was dreadful. The tomato was hard as a stone and the walnut crumble was sticky and cloyingly sweet.

When we left at 9:30, the 9 p.m. reservations were cooling their heels on the first floor.  Most of the 6:30 people were still upstairs dining and schmoozing.

Not much of a celebration.

Celebrating Charlie Barra

by Mika Chall

From Left: Mika Chall, Cathy Curtis and Lisa Hasen

On August 28^th, the culinary fates smiled on a group of 66 wine aficionados and discerning diners who had gathered at Masa’s Restaurant for a Slow Food dinner honoring long-time Mendocino winemaker Charlie Barra. The proceeds from the event were earmarked for Slow Food’s Youth Food Education Program in support of school gardens, childhood nutrition and healthy eating in schools―a program near and dear to the heart of many Slow Food members, including Naomi Freidman, who coordinated the event and is actively involved with school gardens.

Carlo Petrini, founder of Slow Food, and Lorenzo Scarpone, leader of Slow Food, San Francisco, were in attendance. Each paid homage to Charlie Barra’s embrace of traditional farming methods and adherence to organic principles. The Barra family donated all the wines paired with dinner and each one reflected the integrity of their growing practices.

Masa's

Masa’s jewel box setting―intimate, sophisticated and elegantly appointed, with subdued lighting―made us all look not a minute over 35. During cocktail hour, a crackerjack wait staff passed many rounds of canapés, including tuna tartare and the most ethereal gougѐres. The accompanying wine was a 2009 Mendocino pinot grigio. This light, well-balanced wine, with flavors of citrus and apple, was a friendly way to start the evening.

Our first course, pan-roasted Massachusetts day boat scallops, was served on a bed of cannellini beans, summer truffle, summer squash and truffle emulsion. The truffle, although less pungent than those harvested in winter, created a winning contrast to the sweetness of the scallops and beans.  The wine pairing was a full-bodied 2008 chardonnay with prominent flavors of ripe apple and Meyer lemon.

For the next course, Chef Gregory Short sautéed Tolenas Farms white quail and served these juicy birds with toasted farro, mission and kadota figs, green leeks, and quail jus. It was another notable combination of flavors and textures enhanced by Barra’s 2007 pinot noir―a fruit-forward pinot that garnered a Silver Medal in the San Francisco Chronicle’s 2011 wine competition.

Pan-Seared Rib Eye of Stone Valley Farms Pork

Our entrée, pan-seared rib eye of Stone Valley Farms pork and braised shoulder, was plated with a ragout of white corn, cepe mushrooms, fingerling potatoes and pork-infused sauce. One taste of this flawless combination and I understood why, in 2001, while Chef Short was working at the French Laundry, Thomas Keller nominated him for the Bertoli Sous Chef Awards Competition. He took first place. Our 2006 Mendocino sangiovese, a medium-bodied wine with flavors of jammy fruit and aromas of sandalwood, clove and raspberry, was a first-rate pairing.

Green Pluot Frangipane Tart

Of course there’s always room to scarf up a homey dessert―green pluot frangipane tart with honey buttermilk ice cream and honeycomb.  Heavenly.  We drank Barra’s 2007 muscat canelli, with aromas of honeysuckle and pear, and a good balance of sugar and acid.

It was an exhilarating evening of vibrant food, perfect wines and delightful table mates.

Restaurant Review: Locanda, 557 Valencia, San Francisco

by Mika Chall

I confess.  My curiosity got the better of me and I joined the scrum jockeying for a table at Delfina’s recently hatched sister, Locanda, an impressively designed osteria whose menu reflects Rome’s rich culinary traditions.  At the front of the restaurant that was once home to Ramblas, are a long bar, a communal table and a sleek open kitchen.  A quick scan of the scene reveals a demographic that is well under 50, animated and apparently smitten with Locanda’s ambitious cocktail program. Toward the rear of the room is a more restrained, snug dining area where the crowd looks a bit more mature, and the noise level is several decibels lower. A beautifully executed white tile wall wraps around one side of the room while oversized, mid-century chandeliers illuminate the entire space.  Locanda’s carefully curated menu includes an extensive repertoire of Pastas in addition to Antipasti, Charcoal Griil and Specials, Contorni, and Quinto Quarto  (literally fifth quarter, aka offal).

On my first visit, the Jewish style artichoke (poached, fried and seasoned with oregano and mint), which we were all anxious to taste, was presented artfully, and looked inviting. But our hearts sank when we took our first bite and found that the preparation was overwhelmed by salt.   However, we were quickly comforted by the arrival of the mildly flavored warm lamb’s tongue, served with celery and a perfectly seasoned lemon dressing. Our two pasta selections, fettuccini with rabbit sugo and fiorellini with ricotta and squash, were beautifully nuanced and did not disappoint. For mains, we opted for lamb scottadito (a duo of thin lamb grilled with coriander and anchovy), a compatible marriage of flavors; and a tender leg of guinea hen, stuffed with prosciutto, served on a bed of lentils.  Spot-on!  Our dessert of ricotta fritters with citrus caramel, flavored with thyme was a memorable explosion of flavors.

The second time around we started with pizza bianca (a puffy focaccia-style bread) topped with fava bean puree and pecorino.  A satisfying kick start to dinner.  I wanted a second chance at the Jewish artichoke, but alas, it was not on the menu.  Instead, we ordered the salad of shaved artichoke, wild arugula, grilled ricotta and avocado; what a terrific interplay of peppery and buttery.  Making a pasta selection from the wide- ranging list was challenging, but veal casoncelli alla saltimbocca (thin, tubular pasta filled with veal and prosciutto in a light butter sauce) finally got our vote. The combination of flavors worked beautifully, but the pasta was just a tad too chewy and undercooked.  Looking at mains, we were unsure of the provenance of fried Amish rabbit with okra, but decided to not quibble and were more than content with the crunchy, juicy results.  For a finishing touch, we ordered and loved the peach crostada, served with cream and milk gelato.  A perfect ending to a first-rate dinner. Service both evenings was friendly, efficient and knowledgeable.  Locanda’s wine list is eclectic, offering selections from Italy, Spain, France, Austria and Germany.  We particularly enjoyed a Rhone syrah blend, Les Vins de Vienne Remeage (2008).

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A Summer Delight: Della Fattoria-Weber Ranch Dinners

by Chad Graff and Cathy Curtis

We’ve been smitten more than once with the notion of attending an Outstanding in the Field dinner. What could be better than to sit at a long farm table set up in a gorgeous outdoor setting to indulge in a delicious meal and support a local farm?  Alas, the seats aren’t inexpensive, and they go quickly once the dinners are announced. We haven’t yet been able to organize ourselves to make it happen (–someday!) But what a delight to find that we have a great option for on-the-ranch summer dining in our own area!

Ten of us organized ourselves to make an hour’s drive to Petaluma (from Oakland and San Francisco) for a Della Fattoria-Weber family ranch dinner. These dinners are held regularly during the summer on their property just on the outskirts of Petaluma. You may know Della Fattoria from their restaurant in Petaluma or their highly-regarded wood-oven-baked bread sold at the Ferry Plaza Farmer’s Market on Saturdays.

The ranch dinner was a perfect way to spend a summer evening with friends.  If you sense us glowing in this post, it’s because (we and our friends) kept defaulting to the word “perfect” to describe our experience. It was one of those rare occasions where everything was so well organized and in tune from start-to-finish that we all reveled in every detail and couldn’t think of a way we would have done anything differently!

The country setting is charming and low key.  Two long tables were set up underneath a majestic oak tree, in an expansive garden area between two farm houses. It felt open yet intimate — great for welcoming guests to a special event on a working property. Ice bins are set up near your designated places at the table to chill the wines you bring yourself. Group size seemed to range from parties of two to groups of eight or ten. For the ten of us, we brought a good selection of rose, white, and sparkling wines to start, with reds to follow.

The ranch dinners are scheduled to go from 4 p.m. to 7:30 p.m, but happily our hosts encouraged us to stay even longer. To start, we settled in to enjoy a glass of wine (or two) with appetizers. On small tables within easy reach, hors d’oeuvres were displayed for the taking including baked Brie with roasted garlic and rosemary, Aaron’s pork and duck rillettes with mustard and cornichons, and of course Della crostini and breads. In addition, the waiters passed platters of freshly grilled Full Belly Farm figs, padrons and sausages. It was splendid that this part of the evening was so laid-back, everything served at a leisurely pace. This was perfect for allowing guests to trickle in, to catch up with their dining partners, and to enjoy the bucolic setting.

Some guests took a short stroll to visit the wood-fired ovens and see bread baking in action, though there was also plenty of time to do this after the meal too.  It was fascinating to watch the bakers line up the formed dough and sling it into the wood fire oven on the ends of the long-armed peels.  We all knew what tasty goodness came from those ovens!

When we took our seats at the table, anticipation took over, as we all watched day boat scallops being seared on the grill and then tossed with tomatoes, corn and pesto. This dish was accompanied by a mixed green salad – all served family-style. The second course was succulent braised short ribs served with platters of ratatouille, and the ultimate in comfort food – potatoes served gratin-style. Again, this course was served with the earthy, chewy deliciousness that is Della breads and with bowls of McClelland’s Dairy Farm’s creamy, organic butter.

Feeling sated, we all got up to roam around or lounge at the various seating arrangements on the property – all meant for guests to relax and enjoy each other’s company. Our group was partial to the nook next to the outdoor fireplace. While we relaxed, the Della-Weber staff passed platters of peach and blackberry gallettes and poured coffee or tea for those who had moved on from wine-drinking.

We were all sad to see the evening come to a close as we sipped our last sips, ate our last bites of dessert, and then sought out our hosts to give heartfelt thanks for creating such as convivial experience. The one consolation – we all knew we’d be back.

All photos by Joann Falkenburg.

On The Road, New York City – Restaurant Review by Mika Chall

Prune, 54 East 1^st Street, New York City

Having savored every word of Gabrielle Hamilton’s candidly written memoir, Blood, Bones & Butter: The Inadvertent Education of a Reluctant Chef, which details her unconventional and often challenging odyssey beginning at adolescence, when she was forced to fend for herself, to the consummation of her love affair with food — the opening in 1999 of her much talked about New York restaurant, Prune, I was totally psyched for my dinner there.

Prune, New York City

Prune is a neighborhood American bistro, influenced by the chef’s many multicultural culinary experiences. The physical setting is bright, animated and modest.  The room is actually postage stamp size, seating 30 tiny tables that are cheek by jowl. Maneuvering into your seat without upending everything on the adjacent table takes some finesse, lots of sucking in, and no sudden giggles.   There’s a tiny open kitchen and room for 4 at the bar.  The original concept was to establish a neighborhood spot, but word about Prune’s eclectic menu and its confidently executed food and charm got out quickly, resulting in a Saturday night demographic that looked more like a blend of uptown, trendy boho, and tourists than east Village.

The place was packed when we arrived for our 8 p.m. reservation; we waited outside but were seated within 15 minutes with sincere apologies offered for the delay. The wait staff is knowledgeable, genial, and surprisingly patient, providing several samples of wine until we selected one that paired best with our food. The house treat served with cocktails was a bowl of salted roasted chickpeas.

In addition to a fairly ambitious seasonal menu, three specials were available:  cold (baked) salmon, on a bed of soupy green rice; suckling pig with black-eyed pea salad, chipotle aioli, crispy skin, and pickled tomatoes; and baked whole branzino stuffed with fennel and lemon.

The two most decadent (read: lipid-centric) appetizers were butter-fried sweetbreads served with bacon and capers and roasted marrow bones served with grilled bread, sea salt, and parsley salad. The interplay of flavors in both preparations was faultless.  The sweetbreads were tender, mild, and juicy with the bacon and capers adding a salty nuance that highlighted the sweetbreads.  It was a finger-licking choice.

Our generous portion of rich, creamy marrow harmonized beautifully with the slight bitterness of the of the parsley salad.

For mains, we opted for two of the evening’s specials: salmon and branzino. The preparations were straightforward and not overly embellished. The flavor and firmness of the salmon worked well with the soupy style of the green risotto, while the moist branzino was subtly enhanced by the infusion of fennel and lemon.

During dinner, Gabrielle Hamilton arrived to help schlep a couple of large ice chests from the lower floor to the street.  There were no pretensions from a chef with a fabulous book on the New York Times best seller list and one who continues to receive kudos from her peers.  Smiling appreciatively, she stopped to acknowledge all the Gabrielle groupies who called out cheerful greetings and compliments.

For a perfect ending, we shared an order of ricotta fritters cloaked in dark chocolate sauce. Need I say more?