Gifted

Cooper mentioned to me this morning that I have been on the receiving end of a whole lot of gifts lately. He's right.

For starters, last week, Alicia brought over a bunch of vintage cookbooks she got from Mike's family. They're amazing:

A whole cookbook dedicated to deviled ham recipes? SIGN ME UP. 

The Calvert Party Encyclopedia is also especially fabulous. It's mostly drink recipes, like the "One Exciting Night," which is a combo of gin, dry vermouth, sweet vermouth and OJ...and sounds like one hungover morning to me. 

It also has suggestions for party themes, some games, and a small section dedicated to party food, including delicacies like Bologna Boats: "Place American cheese on slices of bologna. Heat in broiler until bologna curls. Serve with crackers." Then watch your friends never, ever come to your house again.

The copywrite date on that book is 1964. Amazing.

Cooper has also surprised me with a gift or two, including a Wicomico County Board of Education Christmas cookbook from 1981 and this little treat, which he picked up at an auction:

Isn't she adorable? (It is a she, too. There's a lady apron.)

These are my favorite kind of gifts: things that are totally cool and that completely align with my interests...and that were complete surprises.

Thanks, Alicia and Cooper!!

To Read: Oysters, Bloodies, Bourbon

Just a few of the oysters we ate in Ireland.

Busy times chez Pollard - the combination of work and no school tends to  make things hectic around these parts. Hence, no post last week.

I have been doing some reading and writing, though. So here are a few things you might enjoy:

It will come as no surprise to anyone who knows me that I very much enjoyed researching and writing this article tied to National Oyster Day. I spoke with some of Baltimore's best oyster people about how to get the most enjoyment out of eating oysters. It made me hungry.

***

Speaking of oysters, one of the things I learned from this article about Bloody Marys is that the drink's predecessor was, essentially, a supersized, warm oyster shooter. As much as I love oysters - and Bloodies - even just typing that makes my stomach turn. The article overall is fantastic, tracing the drink from those humble (blech) origins through the prep years, to the DIY bar years and, finally, ending up with today's how-many-ingredients-can-we-stick-on-a-skewer years.

***

I haven't been a huge bourbon drinking since college (largely because I was a huge bourbon drinker in college), but I can't resist stories about the history of the spirit. They're just so...American. Right now, I'm totally taken with what the crew behind Jefferson's Bourbon is doing with their "Fantastic Voyage." The bourbon was made this past January then barreled for 6 months. When that time was up, it was placed on a raft in Kentucky and shipped off down the Mississippi, bound for New Orleans.

As this Alcohol Professor article explains, the journey is designed to mimic the path bourbon barrels followed over a century ago. It'll be interesting to see how the travels impact the bourbon's flavor.

(As an aside, with a name like Jefferson's Bourbon, how couldn't I like this? When it comes to all things booze and food and college-related, TJ was the best. He made great choices.)

Global Is the New Black

What's more global than candy sushi made by my friends' kids?

Restaurant menu trends come and go, though for the past few years, Baltimore has been on a pretty significant Southern Flavors/Regional American kick.

Over the past month or so, though, I've noticed a slight shift away from strictly American influences to a more global approach to cuisine.

I'm not talking about a largely American dish with, say,  harissa worked into the mix. What's happening now is less subtle than that. It's not about fusion - it's about whole dishes drawn from specific cuisines. And multiple cuisines being represented on one menu.

At Gunther and Co., we ate duck lumpia and a Thai hot pot - both Asian dishes with specific flavor profiles, included on a menu that also had ravioli and a truly impressive selection of oysters.

Last night, at The Elephant - which is in its pre-opening week and is gorgeous - we saw wide bowls of ramen at one table and a lamb tagine for two at another.

If I was going to write a college paper about this trend, I'd posit that because we are living in such interesting times - times of global turmoil, if you want to be more dramatic about it - chefs are gravitating to more classic interpretations of dishes. Global is interesting, but the straightforward approach is familiar and comforting.

And if I was writing that paper, I'm sure I'd find a way to tie in the NY Post's recent article about the return of fine dining. Grown-up restaurants embracing a more serious approach to dining out - it also fits with the "in times of turmoil we seek stability" theory.

This theory was the backbone of about half of my art history papers on college. And, of course, food is the new art.

If I do say so myself.

Ireland Adventures Part 1: The Whiskey

As I was a-goin' over Gilgarra Mountain

I spied Colonel Farrell, and his money he was countin'.

First I drew my pistols and then I drew my rapier,

Sayin' "Stand and deliver, for I am your bold receiver."

Musha ringum duram da,

Whack fol the daddy-o,

There's whiskey in the jar.

We've been back from Ireland for about a week and a half now, which has given me a little time to collect my thoughts about the trip. It was, start to finish, incredible - and as it was such an amazing and densely packed adventure, when it comes to writing about it, I had trouble figuring out where to start.

Ultimately, I decided to start at the end - not of the trip, but at the traditional end of the meal. With whiskey.

*****

Early on in the planning stages of this trip, when we were tossing around different ideas about how we might spend our days in Ireland, Cooper mentioned that he'd really like to spend some time learning the story behind Irish whiskey.

As it turns out, there are not a whole lot of whiskey distilleries in Ireland. I was under the impression that the Irish, like the Scots, are distilling all over the place. Not so. Though we learned in our travels that craft distilling is on the rise, as of right now, there are only about a dozen whiskey distilleries operating in Ireland.

*****

There's only one distillery, actually, that exists within the Dublin city limits: Teeling Whiskey Co.

Teeling was the first place that made it on to our list; it's what Cooper drinks at home (we buy it at Wells) and he absolutely loves it. The two of us visited Teeling's early in the trip - our first Monday - with Cooper's parents and Dixon in tow.

It's a fairly new distillery, though the family behind it has been in the whiskey business for generations (since 1782). The location - in the Liberties, not far from Guinness - was, long ago, where all the Dublin distilleries operated. But following a massive fire (with a gross side-story) in the late 19th century, and a variety of technological and economic fallbacks (including the impact of Prohibition on the international whiskey trade), one by one, Dublin's distilleries - and distilleries throughout Ireland - closed.

We learned quite a bit about the history of distilling in Dublin and throughout the country during our tour of Teelings, which is historic and imposing from the outside but sparkling and modern inside. The tour included both a broad history lesson and instruction on how whiskey is made, with an up close look at the company's stills - three in all, to triple-distill the booze,  each one bearing the name of one of Teeling's owner's daughters.

Our time at Teelings, from our look at the stills to the tasting to signing the tasting room wall and lounging in the bar.

After the tour, we did a quick tasting, trying one of the company's whiskeys (one that is not currently produced on-site, as they've only been open in Dublin for a year and it takes longer than that to age whiskey).  We were also served a whiskey and aperol cocktail, called the Mo Chara, that was delightful. I will definitely be making it at home.

*****

On a two-week trip, one distillery was not enough, but three or four might be too many. Though the Jameson and Tullamore tours are, by all accounts, very good, we skipped both in favor of Kilbeggan, a smaller, older brand now owned by Cooley (which is actually owned by Beam and which - because everything is incestuous - used to belong to the Teeling family).

The trip to Kilbeggan was recommended by Baltimore bartender Ryan Sparks, who I got to chatting with one afternoon last spring while he was behind the bar at Bookmakers in Federal Hill. I asked where he'd recommend we go and he suggested Kilbeggan, saying it is a cool experience for anyone interested in the history of whiskey making.

He was so right. Founded in 1757, Kilbeggan is the oldest distillery in Ireland and though only a tiny bit of whiskey is made on the premises today (most Kilbeggan whiskey is made elsewhere), the space is lovingly preserved and offers a fascinating glimpse at how whiskey was made in the mid-18th century.

We're talking water wheel, massive wooden barrels, a room for coopering (!), and the oldest working pot still in use in Ireland today; it dates back to the early 19th century.

*****

We drove up to Kilbeggan with Alicia, Mike, Stacy and her dad on our first Thursday morning; it was a little over an hour north of where we were staying (an hour on narrow roads that give new meaning to the word "harrowing").

When we arrived, we had a little time to kill before our tour, so we grabbed coffee in a small coffee shop next to the distillery. Turns out, it was both a coffee and chocolate shop and it was owned by the distillery; there was a big vat of chocolate in production right in the middle of the shop and everything smelled glorious.

*****

Thanks to the coffee and chocolate aroma, we were all in good spirits when we entered Kilbeggan - and the tour did nothing but lift our moods. Not only was the space extremely cool, our tour guide, Tracy, was incredibly knowledgeable.

It ended up being a private tour - just the six of us - and she took her time, answering our questions about the history of the place, the distilling process and also about the nature of the whiskey business in Ireland as a whole. She knew her stuff and was super engaging.

Kilbeggan, inside and out, was a beautiful historic spot.

Like the Teelings tour, the Kilbeggan tour ended with a tasting; this time, we tried three different whiskeys produced by Kilbeggan. My favorite, the 8-year single grain, made under the Kilbeggan label (as opposed to Locke's or Connemara), was the sweetest of the bunch.

*****

Between the two tours, Cooper and I picked up a ton of knowledge about the history and mechanics behind Irish whiskey. And of course, the more you know, the better the stuff tastes.

Food and drink, I think, are the best way to study a culture; if you understand what people eat and why, it's not so difficult to understand who they are. The story of Irish whiskey production is a mishmash of fighting and passion and technology and law.

We certainly didn't hear about all the details on our journeys...but what we did learn was fascinating. It's a great reminder that in every sip, there's a whole lot of story.

Observations from Abroad

We have just started the second half of a 2-week trip to Ireland and Scotland - right now I'm in the Edinburgh airport, after a weekend in the city, about to head back to Athy, Ireland, which has been out home base.

I'm on my phone, which is not super conducive to blogging, but I did want to share a couple quick observations about food in these countries.

First, the whole Irish love potatoes thing...it's more real than I even imagined. Sides of chips or mashed potatoes come with everything. Even some dishes that already include potatoes.

That's why I'm sorry to say that to me, Scottish chips are better than Irish. They're somewhat skinnier and seem to have spent more time in the fryer. We've had some really good ones.

Speaking of Scotland, I am an unabashed fan of haggis - I'm such a scrapple girl that of course I love its Scottish cousin.

What I didn't expect in Scotland, though, was the best Indian food I've eaten. It makes sense - the Empire and all - but I was pleasantly surprised, anyway, to find that Mother India's, where we went on the recommendation of our AirBNB host, was outrageously good.

Finally, another big surprise: the Irish have figured out how to always - ALWAYS - serve food steaming hot. It's kind of fascinating.

More on all of this when I return!

Food in June

We are just about to head out of town on a pretty great trip (Ireland!) - and while I probably should've spent the last two weeks packing, instead, I spent it eating. It's been great.

Here's what I've been up to:

On one gorgeous Thursday night, Cooper and I went to The French Kitchen, at the Lord Baltimore Hotel, to check out their new spring/summer menu. We especially liked the fried green tomato starter, which had a spicy remoulade that was excellent. Shrimp and corn bisque, crab cakes (very traditional! In a good way!) and wild rockfish served with stewed tomatoes were other high points.

The French Kitchen's space, with its high ceilings and Eiffel Tower centerpiece, is a fun interpretation of fancy. But the hotel's real star attraction is the rooftop bar, LB Skybar. It has a killer view and we had a couple very nice cocktails. The weather was gorgeous and I left thinking that if I still worked nearby, I'd be up there every night.

The Brewer's Hill area is just blowing up lately. Last week, I went to a fun media preview at Gnocco, the new spot from Brian Lavin, formerly of Salt and Fork and Wrench. The food - Mediterranean - was excellent and the space is super cute.

And I was especially happy to see that Gilles, who worked with the chef at Salt, will be working the front of house. He's great - that he's a part of the team definitely bodes well for service!

Gnocco officially opens next week. Everyone should go!

Gunther + Co. is another recent opening, right around the corner from Gnocco. It's been open for close to a month now. We went about two weeks after it opened and already, both the service and food was in great shape.

We were especially impressed by the service; our waiter knew the menu backwards and forwards. The food was very good, too - the duck confit lumpia was probably my favorite dish - and the space is gorgeous. It's a great spot for drinks and oysters - both menus are solid - or for a full meal.

With so many places opening all the time, it's often tough to revisit restaurants, even if they're always good. Like Woodberry. I love it and don't go nearly enough.

This past weekend, I found myself there for brunch with a bunch of other moms. It was the kind of meal that is so fun to attend but, I'm sure, a nightmare to handle from a service end because everyone is so chatty, it takes a million years to turn the table.

But it was really fun - and a great reminder that Woodberry just gets it right. My meal was straightforward - a bloody mary that was exactly the right amount of spicy and a perfectly, perfectly seasoned asparagus and goat cheese flatbread. Just great all around. I should go there more, especially now that it's nice out, so the patio is open.

Finally, and also last weekend, Cooper and I attended Feastival, an afternoon on the harbor, with food from some awesome restaurants, all benefiting the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation of Maryland.

The cause is such a good one and it warms my heart to see how the city's chefs rally behind it. It is also super fun. The day was a little breezy, but sunny, and Cooper and I arrived right when the party started so we could make the most of our time there.

Here's what I remember eating: tacos from Clavel, shrimp with pineapple foam from The Food Market, oysters from Loch Bar, salmon sashimi from Azumi, a spicy banh mi from Gunther + Co., sticky and sweet sesame wings from Hersh's, a gorgeous gruyere gougere from Colette (OK, three of them - they were so good), sausage and peppers from Wit + Wisdom, squid ink pasta from Aggio and raw carrot cake from Encantada.

I'm sure I'm leaving someone out, too! Everything was good (for real), but those gougeres...I could've eaten about forty of them and still gone back for more.

I washed everything down with an herbaceous vodka lemonade that was ideal for outdoor day drinking. It would have been easy to have about forty of those, too.

This actually isn't even everything. We've also had some fun pool cookouts and last night, we went to an amazing dinner at Boordy Vineyard, catered by The Food Market and featuring their new line of wines, Sweetland Cellars. More to come on that - the drinks, the food and the space all blew me away and I remembered just how much I love it up there.

It's been a good month so far, no doubt. Good...and full!

Pool Season

I love pool season. When I was little, it meant long days, starting with early morning swim team and ending much, much later, at the pond in Ben Oaks, where I grew up. My parents would sit underneath a big willow tree (which is, sadly, no longer), drinking beer and hanging out with their friends. It was pretty great - for me and for them.

When I was teenager, I was the lifeguard there and I spent my days off laying out on the little strip of land that separates the pond from the Severn River - always on my stomach, trying to even out my tan. (Or, rather, "tan." I am pasty or pink, but never quite golden.)

As an adult, I miss Ben Oaks, but the Stoneleigh Pool - even though it's not next to the river - meets all of my summertime social needs. We log a lot of evening hours there in the summertime. It's a good time.

Since there's a very strict no-glass rule at the pool, summertime, for us, is all about plastic and cans. This year, that means lots of LBLL's (schlepped back from Keuka Lake), Leinenkugel grapefruit shandies (finally, this year, available in cans), and Union Craft Old Pro (how can you resist that can?).

I've also developed a recent obsession with the salsa and guacamole made by the people who work at our local Giant. They are so good - especially the salsa, which is very slightly spicy and just a little bit sweet. I eat an embarrassing amount of it when I'm home alone.

But that's what summer is all about, right? Eating salsa instead of dinner and drinking citrusy beers while your kid wears himself out messing around with friends in the pool.

Now, if school would just end, we'd really be in business.

Spring 2016 Recap

Now that Memorial Day has come and gone and everyone at my house is 100% over school (despite the fact that school itself is not actually over), it's time for a big, long recap of all the things I've neglected to write about over the past couple months.

So here it is: the parties and drinks and meals that made Spring 2016 fun (but that haven't made it onto the blog until now):


Way back in March, I helped my brother and sister throw a 70th birthday party for my dad. We ate oysters and Boston cream pie and drank a ginomrous bottle of French wine. We decorated my parents' screened in porch with old photos (my sister's idea) and about 10 million of those poms you have to manually fluff.

We also, at the last minute, thought it would be fun to have a photographer come to take some family photos. Rachel Rock came to the house and took some awesome pictures of all of us - and she was very fun while she did it. Most of the pictures below are hers:

Also back in March, Cooper and I went to Cellar Sessions, a wine class with Wit + Wisdom's sommelier Julie Dalton. She is so smart and good at her job.

The class was no joke - she walked us through how to blind taste wines like a sommelier. Walking into the class, we both thought we knew some things about wine - this was not the first tasting class we've taken. But it was definitely the most intense in terms of knowledge. As a result, Cooper's wine vocabulary and ability to pinpoint specific aromas and flavors has increased significantly. (I still mostly smell fruit and booze when I stick my nose in a glass...his palate continues to put mine to shame.)

In April, I was a judge at the Taste of Pikesville, which was hectic and fun and full of surprises, like an excellent bread pudding from FutureCare, pretty sushi from Wegmans and a smorgasboard of Uzbek specialties from the guys I love at Silk Road.

I also left with this gorgeous collection of chocolates from Raimondi's. They tasted even better than they looked.

After a couple years of not being able to make it for one reason or another, Cooper and Dixon and I finally made it to The Emporiyum, the big, roving food festival.

I spent the first few minutes feeling totally overwhelmed, but once I got acclimated, I loved every second of of the experience. Some of my favorite food people were there, like the crew from Clavel and Nick from The Local Oyster, and I had my first taste of an Ekiben steam bun. It totally lived up to the hype. And there was a lot of hype.

One sunny Saturday afternoon, Cooper and Dixon and I drove up to John Brown General and Butchery, which met all of my very high expectations. Not only is the place adorable, it's also filled with incredible meat, cheese, wine and other things I didn't even know I needed in my life, like a fistful of ramps (later grilled) and a plastic tub of creamy fresh ricotta.

One quiet Monday night, after a hellish day of writing, I had drinks with Charm City Cook at WC Harlan, followed by queso fundido (and more drinks) at Clavel. It was my first trip to WC Harlan, which was, as I expected, very cool and the drinks were thoughtful and creative and completely delicious.

The whole experience improved my day (and week) considerably. "Monday night drinks" sounds risky, but in this case, it was nothing but smart.

One good way to justify Sunday afternoon drinks and apps is to present it in class form. That's how I found myself drinking and eating my way through an afternoon at Bookmakers (again with Charm City Cook). CCC and behind-the-bar master Ryan Sparks teamed up for an Instagram class that genuinely helped me with my crappy picture-taking skills.

Also, it helped me enjoy my Sunday. Because, how couldn't I?

Baltimore's food scene has been exploding over the past couple years - and that's especially noticeable right in the middle of the city, near Hampden/Remington/Clipper Mill, where new restaurants and food-centric mixed use real estate projects are popping up every day.

I checked out one of those developments, Whitehall Mill, during a fun event organized by Baltimore magazine and CCC (she gets around). Whitehall Mill will include a pretty massive food hall and a restaurant, which is great  news for anyone who likes to eat.

At the end of April, I met college friends in New York and had brunch at Hudson Clearwater and drinks at Grand Banks (it's a bar on a sailboat!) and dinner at The Greenwich Project.

The weather was gorgeous, we drank a boatload of rose and prosecco, and it was so much fun. We hadn't all been together in twenty years, so the weekend could have, theoretically, been awkward. It wasn't. It was great.

Also, I want to give a special shoutout to the staff at The Greenwich Project.There was a seating mixup while we were there - something annoying but that could've been fixed with a single round of drinks. Instead, they bought all of our drinks and dessert - and encouraged us to keep ordering more. They went above and beyond to make sure we had a good time. So we did.

In mid-May, I went to Black-Eyed Susan Day, where we ran into Bowtie Bob, did not win any money, had our picture taken by an ESPN photographer, and were reminded that hats can seriously impede peripheral vision. Also, they make my head hot. But they're so cute!

Black-Eyed Susan Day, the day of races before Preakness, is billed as a ladies' day (though there are lots of guys there, too). Mostly, it's known as a more manageable, more grown-up Preakness for locals. There's still some great people-watching, but BESD does not involve the sort of infield antics that Preakness is known for. It's a good time!

Finally, we spent Memorial Day on Keuka Lake with Mike, Alicia and Maggie, watching Dixon learn to SUP while eating and drinking our faces off - including a trip to McGregor (my favorite Keuka winery) and two trips to The Olney Place, where Cider Creek's Cran-Mango Saison became my new favorite thing.

This isn't it, of course. There have been little girls' birthday parties and back porch dinners and a mother-son Oriole's game and two museum-heavy DC visits and a whole bunch of other fun things. It's been a great spring...and all signs are pointing to a summer that's just as eventful.

Trendy: Black Salt

I'm doing some writing and just realized this: black salt rims are totally a thing now. And I totally approve.

Recently(ish) Visited Restaurants: B+O American Brasserie and Cosima

It's been a busy couple months around here. We've been getting out and about quite a bit, which means my "stuff to write" list is painfully long.

Here's a quick recap of two of the best dinners we've had over the past month:

B+O American Brasserie

Just yesterday, I learned, via Facebook, that B+O chef Michael Ransom is leaving town, heading to Detroit to open a place of his own. Great news for him, sad news for us. Ransom's food is thoughtful and lovely - and he's such a nice guy.

At  the end of April, we tasted a selection from B&O's new spring menu and, across the board, it was excellent. There was rockfish and steak, a beautiful charcuterie plate, and charred calamari that was really special.

But our favorite dish was definitely the lamb relleno. The pepper was stuffed with dirty rice and pulled lamb - and it was so, so good. Spicy, but not overly so, and genuinely interesting.

Dinner also included several cocktails created by the incomparable Brendan Dorr, one of Baltimore's best bartenders. His drinks are creative and smart - and delicious.

Our favorite was the Purple Rain (created and named just before Prince's passing). Lavender-infused cachaca, lemon and honey apple shrub. It was light, but potent, and it came with a lesson on shrubs that vastly expanded my knowledge. As is so often the case, I thought I had a handle on the subject, but discovered that what I knew was only a tiny tip of the iceberg.

Overall, the meal was really nice - and a good reminder that B+O does it right. The space is fantastic, the service prompt and both the food and drinks very good. If you haven't been in a while, go.

***

Cosima

Cosima, in Mill No. 1, opened earlier this year to seriously fabulous reviews - the kind every restaurant hopes for - praising both the space and the food. It's been on our short list since then, though because it feels somewhat like a special occasion place (in part because it's on the pricier side), it took us a few months.

Ultimately, the special occasion that finally got us to Cosima was nothing more than a standard Thursday night. When we arrived, the restaurant was fairly busy. We took Richard's advice, finding a couple seats at the bar and ordering several smaller plates and one pizza, all to share.

The pizza crust was terrific and we loved both the basket filled with fried seafood (whole sardines!) and the grilled baby octopus. But my favorite dish - and it came as a surprise, since it was a late, somewhat random addition to our order - was the involtini. Ricotta-stuffed eggplant, placed in a small cast iron dish and surrounded by a simmering red sauce, was seasoned absolutely perfectly - a feat that happens less frequently than you might think. (We are super judgey about appropriate seasoning.)

I'd also like to give a shoutout to the bartenders, who were completely on top of things and knew the wine list backwards and forwards. They took turns offering me wines they thought I might like - and impressed me repeatedly.

Sitting at the bar, for just the two of us on a random Thursday, was absolutely the right call. Though the people sharing tables looked happy, too - and the space is gorgeous.

***

The city has seen a bunch of high profile openings recently and there are more new openings announced every day. Plus, the restaurants that have been around for a while have seriously been stepping up their games. It's a great time to be a restaurant lover in Baltimore.

My restaurants-to-visit list keeps getting longer and longer - but it's one to-do list that can grow and grow. I don't mind a bit.

Drink Crush: Limoncello Collins

I am feeling sunny as anything today - and that is only partly related to the weather gods finally granting us a brief reprieve from the constant rain.

It's also because I have big plans today: instead of work, work, working, I'm heading to Black-Eyed Susan Day with a handful of fun ladies. Then, for the rest of the weekend, I plan to relax, watch some lacrosse and horses, and generally enjoy myself.

Last weekend, I did a lot of the same (minus the horses). On Saturday, we had an impromptu dinner party that turned into a rager (the kind that involves a bunch of kids ten and under...so I'm using that term loosely).

The night kicked off to a promising start with a big batch of Limoncello Collinses, made from this Food and Wine recipe. They're a fantastic batch drink and so delicious. Also, dangerous. They're like massively alcoholic sunshine in a glass.

Last week was my second time making them. I also made a batch for Mother's Day, when we had my parents and grandmother over for dinner. A meal that turned into...well, it wasn't a rager, but Cooper and I did stay up way too late for a Sunday, drinking and listening to music and talking about how lucky we are to have such a great kid.

If you're looking for an easy to make, truly tasty summertime cocktail, this is your drink. Even non-gin drinkers like it. The only catch is that you have to prepare it a couple hours in advance, so it can settle into itself.

But if you can handle that...watch out. It's a treat.

Kevin Alexander Preaches to My Choir

Thrillist writer Kevin Alexander has written a big, intense essay that makes me want to stand up and cheer. It's called "Why the 'Hot New Food Town' Must Die" - and though "die" might be a stretch, I agree with pretty much everything he writes.

It appears that at some point, Alexander was planning to write about Pittsburgh's burgeoning food scene - the city is being hailed all over the place as the next big thing in dining. Instead, he applied what he observed about Pittsburgh - and other places - and wrote about a subject I find fascinating: the sameness of the culinary scenes in smaller cities named as hot new places to eat and the culture that has created that monster. (He admits he's part of that culture.)

He calls it the Good Food Revival Movement - a name that's just about perfect, given the religious zeal that people have adopted when it comes to food.

***

I've been thinking about the similarity between food and religion for quite some time now. In 2009, I wrote my first post about food as the new religion. My starting point was an old Tom Wolfe essay about art being the new opiate of the masses. Food, I suggested, had replaced art. In addition to his use of "revival" to describe the current food climate, Alexander calls food the "social currency" of millennials. We're speaking the same language.

In 2009, I expected that the spotlight would shift away from food and that something new would take its place as the social currency of our time. Maybe it still will. But for now, it looks like food is it.

***

Alexander's other big point, about the sameness of the Good Food Towns - and that they're all based on Portland, in one way or another - is also something I've written about a ton.

My first post on that topic was back in 2006, after my sister's college graduation dinner in Lexington, Virginia. At the time, I bemoaned what seemed to be a lack of regionally-specific dishes and flavors.

A couple years later, as the food world's collective gaze shifted to Charleston and southern flavors reigned supreme, I thought that regionalism was back. (This 2012 post summarizes my shift in thinking.)

If Alexander is correct - and I think he is - regionalism might have slightly returned, but it didn't manifest on a grand scale. He talks about cities "doing a 2007 Portland impression" - instead of digging into their own histories, figuring out their roots, and building unique food identities around what was already theirs.

***

It's a good story - thoughtful and thought-provoking. But, of course, I don't live in Pittsburgh. I live in Baltimore. So I wonder...what does this mean for my city?

People in Baltimore complain sometimes because we've been overlooked, frequently in the past, as a food city. I've had a chip on my own shoulder about it. Why does Cleveland get the love, I asked in this 2008 post. Actually, apparently I couldn't shut up about that in 2008.

But maybe we've been overlooked because we haven't hewed so completely to the Portland 2007 model. Not that we've completely rejected it - there's plenty of charcuterie in town. But one of Alexander's points is that before its revival, Pittsburgh "was a crap food town" without a clear existing identity or even strong ethnic communities.

Without an established culinary sense of self, adopting the Portland model made sense. I'm sure Pittsburgh is home to some great food history and stories, but those things can be tough to dig up. Especially for chefs who want to, you know, make money.

Baltimore, on the other hand, has always had its own thing going. In recent years, we've been peddling the "more than crab cakes" message, but the reality is that we are crab cakes - and steamed crabs and muddy oysters and rockfish and Old Bay. We're more than that, but those things that come from the Chesapeake are at the core of who we are.

This is us. (At my house last summer.)

Plus, those roots have champions. Food innovation here is homegrown. Spike Gjerde has put massive amounts of time and energy into rediscovering and spotlighting the foodways of the Chesapeake region. (Related: Jane Marion's recent profile of him is a great read.)

He's not the only one, either. Winston Blick knows the region's farms and waterways - and the historic flavors that come from them - as well as anybody. Tony Conrad stocks his shop full of fish and crabs and oysters that come straight out of the Bay. And programs like True Blue do what they can to ensure that restaurants and diners stay connected to local products.

Not every restaurant has to be local, local, local, of course. Everybody can't be Woodberry. We also need Bottega and La Cuchara and Charleston and Petit Louis (and everybody else). But the dining community as a whole is better off if it includes places and people devoted to hometown food.

***

Alexander ends his article on a moderately upbeat note, saying that ultimately, raising the food game in smaller cities is a good thing, even if there's not as much individuality as he'd like to see. But he also does a little self-flagellating, reminding himself and other food writers that over-celebrating one particular type of food culture - even if it's good food! - discourages innovation, especially in smaller markets.

Based on all of this, here in Baltimore, I think we should just keep on doing what we're doing. Maybe  I could do a little less "why doesn't anybody in the national press love us" whining. But in the kitchen, on the farms, and on the water, as far as I can tell, we're doing it right.

Ramblings on Rose

At the end of last summer, I insisted I was over rose. I'd had enough of the pink. I moved on.

I should've known I was fooling myself. Here we are, nearly a year later and now that it's springtime in Baltimore, I'm fully back on the rose train.

Coteaux du Libron 2013 by Flickr user Chris Pople

I  kicked off rose season with a bang a couple weeks ago, when I downed way more pink wine than necessary at Kyle and Mary's daughter's fourth birthday party. The weather was nice, the company was good, and Alexander Valley Vineyards Sangiovese rose pairs perfectly with both of those things.

Things that do not pair as perfectly with rose: Sunday mornings. Ouch.

But this post is not about hangovers. It's actually just a long way to say that since we are, theoretically, approaching warm weather, rose has been on my mind lately.

A few weeks ago, I had a nice chat with Brigid McAteer, a wine buyer at The Wine Source in Hampden, all about rose. She gave me some good advice - paler wines are better for porch-sipping and darker shades are better with food, for one. Drink it young, she said. Most rose is not built to age. And, of course, keep it cold, especially when it's hot outside.

McAteer also said that even if you think you only want to drink dry-as-a-bone roses (wines that are as far from white zin as you can get), you actually might appreciate more sugar than you think.

She used that Alexander Valley Vineyards wine as an example. "It's a best seller and a favorite," she said, commenting that as far as roses go, it is on the fruitier, sweeter side. McAteer also recommended roses from the Loire Valley.

Of course, when I think of rose, I think about Provence. Long before I even started drinking pink wine - back when there were few legit rose options available at local shops - I associated rose with the southern French region. (Thank you, Peter Mayle.)

And that is why I jumped at reading this Punch article about rose and Provence, by Jon Bonne, who does a great job illustrating the tension that occurs anytime you combine business with either art or science. Since winemaking is both...there's a lot of tension.

(As an aside, Punch has quickly become my favorite food/bev website. Solid reporting, interesting articles, boozy boozy. I love it.)

The short version of the article is this: Provence has always been about rose and the summery, pink lifestyle that goes with it. As rose has grown in popularity, the increasing demand for pink has influenced the strategies of Provence producers, resulting in fewer interesting reds and whites out of the region...and lots and lots of rose.

And not even more complicated, interesting roses. Winemakers are shifting from tricky Mourvedre to heartier Grenache.

This is all unfortunate, the author laments; as Provence's approach has changed, some of the culture that makes it such a special place - and that makes rose a special type of wine - starts to slip away.

Of course, people are always longing for the good old days - and I'm sure the winemakers aren't crying too much over their newly fat bank accounts.

But that doesn't mean they're not mulling over the changes they see...over a couple glasses of rose. Though it'll probably be Grenache.

Random Ruxton Recipes

Glossy, chef-driven cookbooks are great, but as far as I'm concerned, when it comes to collecting recipes, there's just nothing better than an old-fashioned neighborhood cookbook.

My mother-in-law knows exactly how I feel about this - which is why she occasionally surprises me with gifts from her own personal collection.

Her latest gift to me is this fabulous piece of history - Random Ruxton Recipes, compiled by the Cook Book Committee at Church of the Good Shepherd and published, as far as I can tell, in 1979. The front matter mentions, though, that some of the recipes included were pulled from the original 1953 edition of the book.

Generally speaking, the years between 1953 and 1979 are not known for their culinary strength. And though there are some useful classics in this bunch, there are also a whole lot of recipes that rely on canned vegetables and the kind of processed foods that...well let's just say chances are you're not going to find many of these recipes on most Ruxton dinner tables today.

Case in point - this gnocchi ("gnocci"?) made with cream of wheat and American cheese:

I removed the name of the lady who contributed that because...this is Baltimore. She (or her kids) probably still live here. And I'm fairly certain none of them should be held responsible for this. It was the 70s. This is what people did.

Mid-century culinary atrocities are only one part of why I love these cookbooks. They're also great repositories for staple recipes that might otherwise be lost to history - like this one, for Tomatoes Elkridge:

I'm sure generations of Elkridge members loved these tomatoes, so it's nice to preserve the recipe.

And also..."Put in 350 degree oven almost indefinitely." Almost indefinitely, you say? How specific.

In this particular book, there are lots of little clauses like that one - directions that make me laugh and also that are pretty unhelpful. And a lot of ingredients that appear in the directions, but not in the ingredient list, which makes the recipe editing part of my brain go crazy.

But that's all easy to forgive. It's part of the book's charm. And if a collection of recipes that includes a "cold slaw souffle salad" - made with mayonnaise, lemon jello, cabbage and radishes - isn't charming,,,I don't know what is.

Current Obsession

This room, that chandelier:

Is  that even a chandelier? It kind of looks like the hood for a stove. Either way, I am all about it and also, of course, love the tall windows and the high ceilings and the moody walls and the round table and the whole trad+modern aesthetic. 

Via My Favorite and My Best, who continues to find the best interiors. She's been doing it for years and every time she posts a big bunch of rooms, it's full of stuff I love and that I've never seen anyplace else.

This and That

This Tampa Bay Times article, about the fiction that is "farm to table" claims in many restaurants, is astoundingly good - and astoundingly disturbing. I can't quite wrap my head around how much work it must have been to research and write and how gutsy the publication is to put it all out there, especially in a smaller market - they have their i's dotted, for sure, otherwise they'd get some serious pushback.

And I'm shaken by the article's revelations. I'm not totally naive - I realize there's misrepresentation, at a minimum, in the restaurant industry. But this is so widespread. As I said in a comment on Facebook, I like to think that people are mostly good. This kind of lying - and lying is what we're talking about here - about food, a subject that can bring so much light to life, is profoundly disturbing to me.

*****

In happier news, this Hemingwayish Lucky Peach article made me happy. Oysters are both one of my favorite foods and my favorite subjects, and I will never shy away from a good East Coast vs. West Coast debate. (I am East Coast all the way, obvs., but I do like a melon-y West Coast oyster. Not as much as I like salty East Coasters, but still.)

Writing about oysters is writing about everything, as far as I can tell. Land and money and history and big stuff, but also - because I grew up in an oyster-loving family - relationships and small, specific memories.

Possibly my favorite part of the article was this revelation: "There's something you need to understand...In the Northeast, the oysters are at their best on the winter solstice."

The winter solstice falls, about half the time, on my birthday. I celebrate, obviously, with oysters.

Meals I Have Enjoyed of Late

Clockwise from far left: Colette menu and frothy drink; Limoncello granita oysters at Clementine; Gnocchi with crab and saffron sauce, topped with fried arugula at Cafe Gia; Bone broth at The Food Market; Doughnuts at Parts and Labor.

For the past two months, I've been collecting pictures (and memories) of restaurants around town, planning to write about each of them when I have time to do them justice.

Last week, my computer started slowly dying, so I got a new one. Though I thought I transferred all my photos from the old computer to the new one, turns out, I didn't. The thought of firing up the old laptop right now, just to find those pictures, fills me with dread. But I did take all of this as a sign that I need to stop procrastinating and start writing.

So...past two months, some meals I have loved (illustrated by pics I shared on Facebook and Instagram):

Win-Ryn Pop-Up at Clementine
Way back in January, Winston, Cristin and Ryn, all from Clementine, decided to host a pop-up dinner in the old restaurant space. The original dinner was scheduled for the night of that huge blizzard. Then a makeup date, slated for a week later, also had to be rescheduled, since there was no parking. And then, when the stars semi-aligned and people got into the restaurant, things were a little crazy and hectic. We had a fun night, with good food, but it was really hectic.

But after all of that, they decided to throw another dinner - this one the weekend of Valentine's Day. Cooper and I went, just the two of us. the Friday of that weekend, and we had such a spectacular meal. Gorgeous beet bisque with lump crab. Avocado and pickled watermelon "ceviche." Rabbit cassoulet (which took us way back, to the rabbit pot pie that used to be on the Clem menu...and that Dixon was in love with when he was just a toddler). Duck in a sauce of blood orange and ginger. Prigel ice cream. Charlottetown panna cotta.

Our favorite dish of that night was the oysters with limoncello granita. Totally simple, but crazy good. The kind of thing you taste, then can't figure out why nobody has ever fed you that before because it makes so much sense.

Just being back at Clementine felt great. I wish we could do that every night.

Private Kitchen at The Food Market
The week after Valentine's Day, I had the very exciting opportunity to have dinner in The Private Kitchen at The Food Market. I was with a fun group of people who love food - which is the best way to eat every meal - and it was a blast.

The Private Kitchen is in the basement of the restaurant. The team there used to use it as a prep kitchen, but it's recently been turned into a space for private events - dinners for up to 12 guests.

It's a cute space and still a working kitchen - two chefs (in our case, Chad and Todd) cook and plate your meals for you right there.

Because it's The Food Market, it should be no surprise that our dinner was awesome. The photo above was one of the standouts - chicken broth with prosciutto and housemade pasta, among other things. It was cold outside, cozy inside and the soup was so well-seasoned. Just right all around.

After that dinner, all I wanted to do was think of a reason to throw a dinner party in that space. So fun, so good.

Brunch at Parts and Labor
Earlier this year, Parts and Labor joined big sister Woodberry Kitchen on the Bmore brunch scene. Really, I can't believe that didn't happen sooner. PL is the kind of place that's made for brunch. Great location. Good, straightforward food. Butcher shop so you can shop for dinner on your way out. It's a no-brainer.

In late February, I met Xani and Erin there to eat, catch up on our lives and to talk about how much we love parties and how hosting them is the best. (Seriously, when we see each other, that's all we can talk about. Parties.)

Because it's Parts and Labor, I couldn't help but order scrapple...it's like I'm compelled. It never disappoints. Also, grits. Also, eggs. And of course, because you can't start a Foodshed restaurant group brunch without sweet breakfast apps, we had doughnuts.

Simple food, really. But totally good. The Bloody I had...a spicy one...was also delightful. As was, of course, the company.

Colette
Colette is getting all kinds of buzz these days. The Station North restaurant, which is from the same crew as Bottega, is racking up good reviews for its charming atmosphere and totally good food. It deserves the love.

Cooper and I went on a kind of gross Wednesday in early March, two or three weeks after they opened, and it was already packed. Like Bottega, it's a smallish space that's very cute. Unlike Bottega, which is an Italian BYOB, Colette is French - and it feels completely Parisian, in the best way - and it has a liquor license.

Just this week, they started offering a couple cocktails on tap. They weren't available when we visited, but we did love our drinks - a Gin Fizz for Cooper and a Bee's Knees for me. Old school and well-made, both.

I also really, really loved the goat cheese beignet appetizer. I could've eaten about 40 of them, they were so good. Everything we ate was nice, but those were just fantastic. Airy and tangy - and a perfect hors d'oeuvres, since they whetted our appetites, but didn't fill us up.

Cafe Gia
Last Sunday, I dragged Cooper and Dixon downtown to go to Light City (they complained,but in the end, they both loved it and were happy I made them leave the basement to go). Before we headed over to the festival, we had an early dinner at Cafe Gia in Little Italy.

I had been to Pane e Vino, the wine bar attached to the restaurant, but never to Cafe Gia itself. It's so cute - and our food was great. Cooper and I both had specials - his a lamb dish and mine gnocchi in a creamy-ish sauce with saffron and crab and fried arugula. Interesting and really nicely done.

We also had a lovely glass of limoncello after dinner (Cooper and I did, I mean, while Dixon was housing Nutella bread pudding). It put us in exactly the right frame of mind for a little stroll down to the harbor to check out the lights.

Which we also loved...even if they weren't edible.

Thirsty

It's been freezing this week, but that has not chilled my seasonally appropriate desire to get busy mixing summery cocktails. Specifically, these:

Grapefruit margaritas from Town and Country. Margaritas are always good. Grapefruit continues to be the trendiest juice of all. Together, they're unstoppable.

The Positano, from Le Sirenuse, via the Tory  Burch blog. (No photo of the actual drink, but here's a pic of the lobby at Le Sirenuse, as a consolation prize. It's on the Amalfi Coast. Which is where I would like to be right now.)

Pomelo and basil cocktail from Serious Eats. I printed out this recipe weeks ago and it's been staring at me, begging me to make it. Do I wait until I have some basil in my yard? Or do I give in and make some for cocktail hour this Friday? Probably choice #2, right?

Photo sources: Town and Country, Tory Daily, Serious Eats.

3 Things I Have Enjoyed This Morning

1. Eames + Shag
This Curbed article about a Charles and Ray Eames-themed exhibit at the Nucleus gallery in LA. How could I not love it, when it includes this Shag drawing? I love Shag - and hadn't seen any of his work in a while. This is just a perfect match of subject and artist.

Image source.

Also, this is how I like to think Cooper and I look when we're just hanging out around our house. (Note: this is not actually how we look at all.)

2. Party Girls
This video and this article about the greatest "It Party Girls" of all time. Zelda! To be fair, the list doesn't really cover all of time. More like the past hundred years. And even then, it leaves some room for debate. Lots of room.

But still, I love a party girl.

3. Light City's Success 
This article about Light City's massive success. We went last night and it was even better than I expected.

The installations were cool and even though we only saw a little of the entertainment, it was engaging and fun. The crowd was friendly and spirits were super high, all around. It just felt good.

The pictures I took completely didn't do the installations justice - especially not this photo. But what I love about this picture is that Dixon is totally smiling OF HIS OWN ACCORD. That never happens and it especially doesn't happen after I've made him pose a bunch of times, like I had last night.

Mandated photos are not his favorite, to put it mildly, but Light City was cool enough that he was more than willing to let me snap away.

We didn't even get a chance to see the whole thing - I know we missed some good stuff. I'm already looking forward to next year, when I will definitely plan better, so we get there more than once.

Marimekko @ Target

There is only one way for this to end. With me, disappointed and tired. Maybe I'll have spent money on something I'll never wear, or maybe I won't even have found anything at all to buy. Either way, a Target collab this high profile will almost surely not meet my expectations.

And yet...on Sunday the 17th of April, I'm sure I'll find myself lined up outside the Target doors, all excited about what's inside. I so love Marimekko. Danish Scandinavian + colorful is my kryptonite.

I mean...look at that table. How could I possibly resist it? How can I resist anything that pairs so well with a summery cocktail?

See the whole collection here.