Just finished reading Garlic and Sapphires, by past New York Times food critic and editor in chief of Gourmet magazine Ruth Reichl. Absolutely sumptuous and naughty, and made me want to visit New York and taste the marvelous cuisine she describes.
Really, her book is as much about discovery of self as it is about discovering great restaurants. In order to get the everyman's experience, she employs radical costuming, complete with wigs, vintage store finds and professional makeup sessions. She's honest enough to note that food critics get the best of the best, and non-celebs are often seated at the worst tables, have to wait long past reservation times, and get fruit tarts made with the smaller raspberries. Each of her personae shows a previously hidden aspect of her personality ... from reflections of her mother, to her kindest and best self, to her uptight and wenchy self, to an examination of what it is like to be invisible. I loved this exploration of the many women that constitute her total being.
And if the idea of elaborate costumes weren't enough, her fantastic descriptions of the most elaborate dishes had my mouth watering to a distressing degree. I had to comfort myself with a serving of tamago-gohan in the place of the risotto I so craved. Reichl has an amazing facility with words, and it's easy to feel as if I am at her elbow as she dines in Lespinasse ...
Braised salmon and crisped artichokes with a syrah wine reduction sounds like a dish you may have tasted before. It even looks vaguely familiar, a fat slice of salmon on a bed of crisply fried strips of artichoke in a deep purple sauce. There are bread crumbs on top and a sprig of chervil. Take a taste, however, and you know you are in new territory. Yes, there is a but of chestnut, and you can taste the wine and the tricky flavor of artichokes. But here is something else. You taste it again. Olive? Not quite. So you ask.
"Oh," says the waiter, offhandedly. "That is kokum. It is a fruit used a gret deal in Indian cooking."
Each meal is a roller coaster of sensations. Mr. Kunz has an almost Asian fascination with texture, and he loves to play with temperature as well. His risotto always comes with contrasting dish: one night the creamy rice was slicked with white truffle oil and served with a tiny casserol of sliced salsify and black truffles. The creaminess of the rice was emphasized by the crunchiness of the black truffles jus as the delicate perfume of the white truffles emphasized the deep musky flavor of the black ones."
Unfortunately, the time is now past. Tried to get current reviews of the restaurant, only to find, much to my dismay, that it has been closed.
Interesting to note, the book is also scattered with Reichl's recipes. Someday I will want to try them. And it's generally my family who gets the results. Because in my apartment, Wonder Woman (who loaned me this book) reigns supreme in the cooking arena. No one I know comes even remotely close. I wouldn't even dare to compete. Thus, it is my supportive and loving family that generally gets the offerings from my cooking experiments. However, even that will have to wait until after summer is long gone, because the idea of using a stove or oven in the Los Angeles heat is too much to bear.
No comments:
Post a Comment