Things I Ate in Norway: Bergen

I just wrapped up a week in Norway with my mom and one of my sisters.  Pretty much a perfect fall vacation--weather was great, scenery was spectacular, and we are all still speaking to each other.  For non-food Norway pictures, see this album.

I've thought about posting food thoughts, whether to do an uber-mega post of everything, or break it down by meal, but the best compromise seems to be to recap by city.  In reverse order, here's Bergen, where we had two dinners.

One dinner was planned and fancy, at a place called Spisekroken.  It's a pretty typical locovore/seasonal-type contemporary place.  But it's Norway.  I had smoked duck with carrot and buckthorn puree followed by lamb with pearled barley, pickled pumpkin, thyme, and sherry sauce.

And for dessert we shared a chocolate mousse with Norwegian brown cheese and blackberries, cloudberries, and hazelnut and caramel.
 

It was a nice meal--service was good, the space is nice and contemporary, and the duck was excellent.  I've had better lamb chops; these were a little fatty. Nice job with the sauce, though, and I loved the grain. I never think to make barley. I should.

Something clearly went wrong with the dessert--I think they got busy and it sat a while. It looks suspiciously like a melted lamb chop, no? Thankfully, it tasted a lot better than it looked.

The second, much less fancy, dinner was at the Opera Cafe. Yes, chips and salsa. I liked it since it echoed mom and my first meal of the vacation. Then I had simple grilled salmon, with a nice fruity salsa and, joy of joys, a salad. And we shared a piece of tremendously good eplecake and ice cream for dessert.

This was unplanned--I hadn't made a reservation for the last night.  We were out, we were hungry, I was getting grumpy, and Google Maps turned it up nearby. But it was perfect--definitely more the way Bergenites eat every night than Spisekroken. And we needed something lighter and simpler. I loved the vibe, too--it was right by the national theater, and close to the university, so very studenty and low-key.

Mom and I had some prosecco and toasted our last night in Norway.


A couple of other notes on Bergen eats.

As I'm easily persuaded by advertising, I had a Skillingsbolle from Baker Brun, the "all-time favourite Bergen treat."  It's a cinnamon bun, but one that's been a Bergen tradition since the 1890s and "a taste of the soul of the city."  So they must be doing something right!



And maybe one of the best things I ate all trip.  During our couple of hours touring the Sognefjord's spectacular scenery (all mountains, sea, and waterfalls), I had an Ostepolse med bacon--a pork sausage studded with little chunks of cheese, wrapped in bacon, and cooked in the ferry's little snack bar.  Served a la hot dog, in a bun with mustard.

In the moment, brisk air, breathtaking scenery, amazing adventure, it was pretty much the ideal thing to be eating.  Thanks, mom!

Canelé and Macchiato at Frisson Coffee

I had a picture framed last week at a place in Hell's Kitchen and last weekend found myself walking west on 47th Street.  Happily so, as I stumbled onto Frisson Espresso, a non-chain, high-quality, charmingly artsy coffee place tucked away midblock.

They made me a very pretty macchiato, and I had an even prettier canelé. As you may know or can see in the picture, they're small, specialized pastries, known for a caramelized outside and a bread-pudding or custard-like inside. They're from Bordeaux, and although they've been below my radar, apparently they're quite the hot pastry in NYC recently. At least, Serious Eats has covered 'em.

I think this was my first one ever. It was delicious, and interestingly it made me think of a dessert I grew up with. Cascaron are essentially Filipino donuts, deep-fried conglomerations of coconut, rice flour, and sugar.  Very unhealthy. Being coconut based, they taste nothing like canelé. And yet, the combination of textures, crisp giving way to toothsome, soft-but-chewy interior, was evokative.  

Thinking about desserts of my childhood reminds me that I should write something about malasadas at some point.

In the meantime, if you're in Hell's Kitchen, stop by Frisson.

Not-So-Guanciale Pizza at Otto

On Thursday night I took myself out for dinner at Otto, Mario Batali's informal pizza place near Washington Square Park. I'm a huge fan--a quartino of wine, some veggies or salumi, and a pie or pasta dish is great, reasonably affordable, and then comes Otto's olive oil gelato, which changed my life the first time I had it.

Seriously, that stuff is so good...I ordered it the first time just because it sounded weird and I am a fan of weird ice creams. But it's super ultra creamy, the mouthfeel is like magic, and they serve it with just a bit of crunchy sea salt... While I pride myself on dessert-related willpower, I will never turn that down.

I'm noting Thursday's dinner mainly because it was a rare disappointment.  The guanciale pie was their pizza del giorno. And it was good, and yet...I had a mental expectation of lots of chewy, smoky, wonderful, jowl. And what it really was was, well, chick pea pizza. There was a little guanciale, I think, but it was chopped super-fine and there wasn't much of it. I didn't send it back, since there was nothing really wrong with it.  But it definitely didn't live up to my expectation.

Anyway, go to Otto. Save room for dessert (I did 3 flavors: Guiness stout and roasted fig along with the olive oil--weird ice cream flavors attract me, like I said--and the stout was fantastic). But if you go on a Thursday, I think you can skip the guanciale pizza.

Hot Fudge Pudding Eclipse Cake

I had people over for the at-perigee lunar eclipse last weekend. My building has a pretty good roof deck and if the moon is going to go from Supermoon to OHMYGOD NO MOON in a matter of an hour or so, better to have company. The menu was pretty simple, my friend N. brought a salad, and I roasted a couple of pork tenderloins and made macaroni and cheese (from scratch, my proprietary recipe).

I wanted to do something appropriate for dessert--I figured something very dark would be right.  So in looking through my cook's illustrated database, once I decided I wasn't making moon cookies, a hot fudge pudding cake seemed like the thing.

HFPC (since I'm already tired of typing it out) is fun and super-simple. A single batter turns into a brownie-ish cake layer on top and a rich pudding layer down below. I love the recipe because, first, it's ridiculously delicious (if a little unsightly-- Cooks Illustrated says it's too 'homely' to make for company). And second, it's one of those recipes that totally looks like you're doing it wrong.

You start with a standard-looking, brownie-like batter.

Then you sprinkle a combo of cocoa, brown sugar, and regular sugar over the top.

THEN, you gently pour a cup of coffee over the whole thing (you can use water too).  So it goes into the oven looking like nothing so much as an overwatered potted plant, or a flash flood in a very brown desert.

Unpromising!

And yet, somehow, in the oven, the cake part bakes, puffs, and floats, while the coffee melds with the cocoa and sugar and sinks to the bottom and congeals into a pudding. Darned if I know how it works, but it's some of the very best kind of kitchen magic.

And, agreed, Cook's Illustrated, the finished HFPC is "homely."  But my gosh, if the moon is going to vanish possibly never to return, it's a fine way to say farewell. The cake vanished pretty quickly, too.

Here's the moon rising over the Cathedral Church of St. John the Divine, by the way.

Gramercy Tavern, With Mom

Mom came to town a few weeks back. It was the run-up to our fantabulous week in Norway over Labor Day. But to break up the trip and visit New York (and her favorite son) she decided to visit for a few days.

Ever since she retired, she’s come to NYC annually. I always try to show her a good time, take her cool places. This time around, I thought about it far enough in advance that I got a reservation at Gramercy Tavern. We met up with my friend M. for a truly great meal.

What can you say about Gramercy?  For me it’s the most consistently wonderful restaurant in a city full of them. It’s got the razzle-dazzle, the name recognition, the decor, the history, and even after all these years the food still consistently knocks it out of the park. There’s more decadent, definitely more fancy, more adventuresome for sure, and in other ways better places along some axis or another. But in terms of the total package, classic New York restaurant, I have to think it’s the best.

I love just walking into Gramercy.  The theater of it.  Per se is like walking into a temple; Gramercy is like walking into a very sophisticated party. The exterior is so very much this city, and you hit dark wood and tons of flowers and the hubbub of the barroom…atmosphere to spare. But then you walk through to the dining room and it’s like magic the noise level drops (how DO they do that?) and you’re in this fancy and yet comfortable and intimate space.

Mom and I relaxed with a cocktail while waiting for M. to arrive, and then we got down to the serious business of considering the menu. I talked us down from the tasting menu, which seemed extreme.  We got the 3-course instead.  More than sufficient.

The playlist went like this:

Amuse was a spoonful of what was basically a bean salad, finely chopped, slightly spicy, with some seeds and such.

For my starter I got the corn and grain salad, with tomatoes, almonds, and Pecorino. Light and summery.













 
  
My main was sea bass with shiitake mushrooms, a cucumber based dressing, and black garlic.  I love the fish-and-mushroom combo, the umami makes the fish seem a lot more like a land animal.  It’s a neat trick.















Then came a palate cleanser, which had a little coconut and yuzu and mint going on.  Well, actually I don’t remember what it had going on, but that seems plausible enough.









And then came dessert.  There was actually quite a conversation about dessert.  We got it down to four things and Allan, the wonderful guy taking care of us was like, “don’t worry, I’ll solve this problem.”  And sure enough he shortly thereafter reappears (with associates) bringing all 4 of our finalist desserts.

Chocolate, Black Currant Jam, Milk Crisp and Cocoa Nibs; Huckleberry, Vanilla Cheesecake Tart; Mango Pavlova with Raspberries, Brown Sugar Jam and Coconut Ice Cream; and Raspberry Panna Cotta.

They were so good I needed to take “after” pictures of them, so here those are.

The huckleberry thing was the surprise for me.  It was incredibly good.  I think I reacted the same way the last time I had a huckleberry, like “holy mackerel these are fantastic!” But I forgot.  The chocolate was pretty sensational too.  But really, not a weak dessert in the bunch.

And inevitably there were some petit fours after, too.  Because that's how they roll at Gramercy Tavern.

I don’t go to there very often.  I really should. But I’m always exceedingly happy when I do. Utterly wonderful meal.  I’m sure one mom will remember for a long, long time.

Things I'll Never Cook

Recently I've found myself wanting to make a souffle. When was the last time anyone anywhere made one of those? I feel like they are so hugely unfashionable they're due for a comeback. Anyway, I've made souffles before, and for all the reputation, they're not so difficult. I'm pretty fearless in the kitchen, if I do say so. Aside from beef-based dishes (I've been off bovine flesh since Mad Cow Disease), there's very little I can think of where I'd say "I'll never cook that." I've never made a lobster, but I certainly would. Ditto bunny rabbit.

But then again...

A relative of a friend of mine died recently, which led to an interesting series of Facebook posts titled "Shit My Aunt Saved." Among them was this gem of antique cookware:

She identified it as a fruit press, but I am pretty certain that it's actually a duck press, the key gadget/torture implement in making the most flamboyant and grossest of French dishes, canard à la rouennaise, literally translated as duck in blood sauce, but more often called 'pressed duck' in English. For pretty obvious reasons.

I'll direct you to the nice folks at D'Artagnan if you want to know more about the theory and practice of pressing a duck. But (a) I wonder if my friend's aunt ever actually DID make a pressed duck, because that's pretty badass.  And (b) holy jeez, that's a thing I'll never cook.

Macchina

One of the great things about my neighborhood is every time I start to think I'm tired of living here, the restaurant situation evolves and it's like food-wise at least, a new neighborhood comes to me.  The newest of the new crop is Macchina, a fancy pizza place that just opened at the corner of 105 and Broadway.

The decor is modern, with lots of brick, maybe a little retro/hipster/cliche, but it's got great windows that open up when the weather's nice. The service was great, and most importantly the pizza was very good. They've got the crust down (very Italian style, whatever they've got going on oven-wise, it gets fantastically hot).  This is a pizza bianca with thinly sliced potatoes, bacon, and gorgonzola. A great combination of flavors.

We also got the carrot 'agnolotti' which was tremendous--it's  great that people have recently discovered how to roast carrots to the point that they're almost like meat. Root veggies in that form are on the verge of being overplayed in NY restaurants at the moment, but that doesn't stop a well prepared carrot from being delicious, and here, in a pasta setting with amaretti, mint, hazelnuts, and brown butter...well, who needs the flesh of an animal?
 
Macchina has taken some hits in the early Yelp reviews for being overpriced for the neighborhood, and overpriced for pizza. I think the criticism is justified to an extent, but, hey, they post the prices publicly, if you opt to eat there, I don't think it's fair to get upset later about how much your pie cost.

My slightly larger problem with Macchina is that the menu, though good, is pretty limited. Four white pizzas and four red pizzas to choose from (plus some pastas and a few 'secondi'). I realize they're just getting started, but any corner pizza shop in the city can put together more combinations and permutations of ingredients than Macchina has.  Hopefully as they hit their stride the menu will get more diverse.

Still, I'm psyched to have them around, looking forward to trying more of their offerings.