GourmandeMom™

GourmandeMom Olympics Day 2: Foreign & Domestic, Glass Shop, Aviary

(Gruyere popovers, Foreign & Domestic)

I've always found the issue of dinner resevations at Paris restaurants very annoying.  That is, the fact that for a good place you just have to have them.  And for really good places, this may mean weeks or months in advance.  (Oh, speaking of which -- Frenchie, the wine bar part of it, in Paris is expanding!)  Sure, I get that these are small places.  I get that planning ahead for a lovely meal is part of the French respect for the dining out experience.  I also get that small places cannot just rely on random folks coming in, and I get that my annoyance has a lot to do with the fact I hate constraining the do-anything-I-want-for-dinner paradigm of being able to pick and choose a place on a whim. 

But I may be over that.  All that annoyance with the reservation thing in Paris ended Tuesday night -- when I tried Foreign & Domestic ("F&D") for the first time.  F&D does not take reservations.   F&D opens at 5:30.  

The plan was to meet there at 6.  I got there early.  In Austin these days, it is a ridiculous 103 degrees about that time of day.  Just walking from my car, where I had parked a block away, I had gotten seriously cranky about the heat and was sweating already. 

I walk in.  Not crowded yet.  Whew.  A very sweet and kind petite hostess, tells me: "Oh, we cannot seat incomplete parties."  Oh, sure that's ok, I say, I'll just stand here at the bar. 

She:  "Oh, I'm sorry, it's such a small place.  There's really no room.  There is a wait area outside with seating." 

Me:  "Seriously?...But it's really, really hot out there...?"  I thought she was kidding.  And then I thought I might cry or scream. Post-pneumonia, I really cannot handle the heat.   

She:  "Oh I know, but there are chairs out there in the waiting area.  And water.  I'm so sorry.  And here's a drink menu, we have drink service out there."   I leave and go outside.  I find the seating area.  There is water, yes.  There is a fan, yes.

(the cooling pen/waiting area)

I lie down on a wood bench against the building and take self-portraits of myself in case I die out here. 

One other person is out there, waiting, in one of the cute green chairs.  He is talking on the phone.  I consider Tweeting this misery.  

A really nice young man does come outside to take a drink order.  The other person orders something.  I say, no thanks.  [I just want to sit here and pout.]

Friend running late.  I relay the fact I'm about to go hormonal on someone as I am sitting out here in the Sahara.  It is suggested by friend that perhaps I misunderstood, that surely people are not expected to sit outside in 103 degree heat.  Perhaps I could sit at the bar.  Right, sure, that's got to be the case.  I just misunderstood.  We consider calling the whole thing off if I did not misunderstand. 

I go back in, time no. 2.  

She: "Oh, great!  Is the rest of your party here? Come on over here,"  as she grabs menus.  (She seriously could not have been any nicer.)

Me: "Uh, no, not quite yet (I look around, longingly, at the open seats at the bar).  But I was wondering...could I just sit at the bar?  I'll even drink for 2?  I just have a really hard time with the heat post-pneumonia."  [She looks around, wondering if something can be done to help out.]

She:  "Well, no, I'm so sorry.  People usually end up eating there so no, I'm so sorry."

Me:  [Crestfallen.]  "Uh, ok.  You know, I think I'm just going to wait in the car."

She: "Ok, I'm so sorry."

I walk back to the car.  I get in and crank up the AC. I wonder if this is worth it.  This had better be worth it.  Seriously?  No standing, it's big enough of a place.  I'm just one person, it's not packed or anything...I think on all this.  And I think about the no reservations thing.  And I think about the Paris rule of having to have a reservation.  I get it now.

Friend arrives.  I walk in, third time, sweating, again, from the walk to car to F&D front door.  Having committed to sticking this out, and because the end is in sight, I rally:

Me:  "Hey!  Me again, third time's a charm I guess. I think we're ready to go."

She:  "Oh, great, and I am so sorry.  I feel so terrible when I have to tell people they have to wait outside."

Me:  "Oh, do not even worry about it.  So not a problem.  Thank you so much."

By then - 6:20 p.m. - F&D was packed. People were being sent outside to wait.

Good thing I rallied.  This was not just a good time.  It was a great time.  And by the time we sat down, and got a nice bottle of cool rosé that the superlatively knowledgeable and good-natured waiter recommended over a white, I could not hear a thing because the din of happy diners was a bit much.  I did not care.  I was just happy to be there.  And it was great rather than just good because of a few key reasons, the usual reasons that make an experience great rather than ok: 

1. Decor - the decor here is young, casually sophisticated.  Subtle mid-century modern via thrify shop sort of style.  Well done. 

2.  The wait staff is fantastic. It's obvious that everyone who works there loves the place, loves the food, believes in the food and feels that the whole idea of this new Gastropub place is something special.  I learn that it was a good thing we got there on a Tuesday night.  Other nights are insane I am told.  I hear about the lines and lines of people that the staff can see descending on the place before they are even open.  And then there is a charming discussion about wine, which included a digression into African geography, and a detailed description of a rarely-seen cut of beef that being used that night for the "bistro fillet."  (I did not hear many details.  The din...) 

3.   The young culinary star couple/Gastropub theme.   F&D is run by a husband and wife team, Ned and Jodi Elliott, with solid culinary credentials - including stints with none other than Alain Ducasse and Thomas Keller.   I think of Verjus in Paris and the (seemingly) very young and courageous, gifted team there, Braden Perkins and Laura Adrian.  I think of Lenoir, which I hope to get to later this week, owned and operated by husband and wife Todd Duplechan and Jessica Maher.

F&D is known for a menu starring an array of meat parts I ordinarily would never think about eating - like beef tongue.  But the menu seems to be lighter for the summer. The order:

Gruyere Popovers

Salad of Kale & Boquerones

Roasted Sockeye Salmon - Summer Succotash, Basil, Corn Curry (beautifully cooked salmon, crispy crunchy skin) (was pacing myself: but next time, like very, very sooner than later, I'm getting the "Fried Chicken Biscuit: Fried Egg, Black Pepper-Cheddar Biscuit, Romaine Slaw, Lemon Jam" that someone next to us had ordered and I just could not stop staring at it)

Smoked “Bistro Fillet” of Beef Stew of Peas and Beans, Peach, Hock Broth

German Chocolate Cake - Dried Cherries, Milk Chocolate Ice Cream (served up a la mode style in a small bowl)

Coffee   (Would not have thought to order coffee, but I was not quite ready to leave, and I was smitten with the vessel used for a coffee cup I saw at the table next to us.  A to-go cup from a Greek restaurant or Greek 7-11?  Hilarious.  It really is a paper cup.  And the coffee, explained in detail by our waiter (but I could not hear a thing because ...the din...and I'm getting to be of a certain age...) was really good.  Dark and bold and rich enough for picky me but not bitter.)

Nice waiter:  "How about some cream sherry to go with that? [It was Alexandro Cream Sherry Jerez de la Frontera NV.]

We:  "Sure!"

And finally we were done.  And they could call in someone else from out in the Sahara.

F&D is in a funky part of Austin, just past the array of circus-y strip of colorful stores where West North Loop just about becomes 53rd. So this evening also included a short field trip for me to see the lovely glass work available at a store nearby that specializes in attractive ways to smoke - you know, tobacco and such.  This was new and news to me.  Really.

The next planned stop, Tigress/The Tigress Pub, was right there (no sign, so hang in there trying to find it), but we changed course and called a friend and headed down south for Aviary -- also on my list for GM Olympics.

And this all reminds me.  The next Paris trip is 2 months away. 

Must make reservations. 

 

 

GourmandeMom Olympics Day 1: La Condesa

Although I have attended a very swell fundraiser for The Creative Fund on the second level - up at Malverde - I had never been to, i.e., dined at, La Condesa.   Until Monday.  [And I actually did that early Monday morning swim I mentally committed to on Sunday night after the over-indulgence weekend - part of my Olympic week activities...something to help justify the grueling week ahead of rigorous study of wining and dining.]

And though La Condesa sort of qualifies as a "chain" -- there is that location in Napa Valley after all -- culinarily insightful and hard (food) grader friend (Melissa) had La Condesa on the maybe-a-place-to-go list when I had to recommend food venues in Austin for a visiting food-focused Londoner.  It was high time I actually walked in the door and checked it out.

Well, just as I love everything there is to love about Mexican breakfast, this really is the kind of food I could eat almost every day.   Like that array of guacamoles...lump crabmeat and diced apple being a favorite.

The proclivity to this kind of food may have to do with just how light and fresh and evocative the ingredients are, such as mango, jicama, "epazote-grilled carrot" for a salad, and a torta with "adobo-braised beef short ribs, black bean purée, arugula, queso mixto, pickled jalapeño, salsa chipotle."  I had the roasted chicken salad - reminder of salads of my Junior Year in France past...but nothing like those salads really at all: "rotisserie chicken, local arugula, cabbage, escarole, green beans, jicama, radish, corn, grape tomato, avocado, queso fresco, mustard vinaigrette." 

(Paris trip) Amy, who dashed downtown to join me, had tacos "Acelgas" - "spinach, giant white butter beans, pico de gallo, toasted garlic, salsa verde."   Amy pronounced the butter beans very well executed and the sides of beans and rice out of the ordinary.   My salad was as light and as fresh as it sounds, and the rotisserie chicken nothing like (i.e., much tastier than) the usual standby rotisserie chicken I resort to many nights - alternating between that of Randall's (bleah) and Central Market (better).

At lunch La Condesa is definitely a downtown crowd, the work lunch I had forgotten about during my current sabbatical of sorts at the home office (where I am most days for lunch eating Pepperidge Farm Goldfish in front of a Food Network show as a prelude to (mostly) healthy real lunch).

I want to give La Condesa a try at night - all aglow and with the evening vibe of downtown Austin going on - and a nice bottle of rose on the table.   But it is definitely a place I need to try again - and maybe even again and again. 

Next:  "Twofer Tuesday" --  Foreign & Domestic and Aviary 

 

 

Elgin Day Food Finds

There is really no disconnect or irony at all.  There is my abiding and profound attachment to Paris, but small Texas towns are far up there on the attachment scale too.  And for similar reasons: the architecture, the thrill of checking out new food places--good and bad--and meeting the local folks.  The last baseball game of the summer season was this past Saturday in Elgin, some 35 minutes away.  With an hour to kill between drop-off time at 9 a.m. at Elgin Memorial Park and game time at 10 a.m., I knew exactly where I'd be spending the time. 

 As soon as I dropped off the son, off I went, down the street where I had seen the sign pointing to "Historical District."  

Lots of small Texas towns have a smattering of these gorgeous old brick buildings preserved/restored for their "historic" district.  But here, in Elgin, there are very highly redone and architecturally stunning in effect long rows of such buildings - each of gorgeous colors and shapes and sizes of brick, wood, metal.    Elgin has been doing some good work in the preservation realm I now learn -- from here. 

The Elgin Commercial Historic District includes 14 city blocks of commercial and
industrial buildings. Most of these buildings are constructed of locally
produced brick and were erected from 1872 to 1947. During the past 14 years
private property owners, business owners, and the public sector have invested
approximately $9 million in the downtown area

Building after building, each one is very different from the one right next to it, all of which are side-by-side, connected: made of brick of all colors: pale yellow, bright red, brown.  Some roof lines are straight across, others arched, some with incredibly ornate designs, with contrasting brick detail in relief.

I was parking and walking for sure, and the first stop would be figuring out how on earth it is that the place known as the home of famous Elgin Hot Sausage, has just a few feet outside the historical district proper a place called "El Maguey."  

I hear "maguey" and I think interior Mexico.  Oaxaca.  Tequila.  But here it is advertised as "tex mex," with music playing, here in Elgin, Texas.  Must see if they do a breakfast taco with Elgin Hot Sausage.  But with breakfast of whole grain organic wheat flakes not too long ago, I just marvel and walk on. 

 

A sign that looks like a Knights of Columbus hall emblem down a side street distracts.   Not the KC Hall.  It's a place called "Newt's Bistro." 

Decide must check out.  It says "bistro" after all.   Have iPad.  Will just have coffee.  And maybe a piece of Elgin Hot Sausage and, perhaps, I hope, some idyllic amazing food find of a biscuit.  I'll let Guy Fieri know about it even, perhaps...

The exposed brick wall inside looked like a good sign.

The long narrow steel table up front looked promising - contemporary chairs. 

Well, Newt's has a ways to go.  With good bone structure of nice architectural facade, exposed brick, nice choice of mod furnishings up at the front of the restaurant - like I could hang out with the lap top and a latte all day - you just can't be having that acoustical tile ceiling.  Architectural crime.  The coffee needs a big upgrade.  But they're on the right track with the tall, narrow at the bottom to wider at the top coffee "mug" - huge design plus over the nasty coffee mug usually seen at such places - and by such places I mean everywhere. 

And I'm talking to you, Kerbey Lane Cafe and Magnolia Cafe.  This mug should be outlawed.  Coffee hangs on the edge of it.  The temperature drops from the time it leaves the mug to getting into the consumer's mouth because of that large lip on top of the mug that the coffee has to move over.  Then the coffee backwash from drinking it lingers and stains as it builds up on that lip of the mug.  It's just gross.  I never drink coffee out of these things.   Newt's gets A+ on the mug design upgrade.

Newt's gets a D- for not having a single item with Elgin Hot Sausage.   

I regretted not trying City Cafe. 

It looked like it had it going on.

I walked on. 

I eventually head back for the baseball game.  It is the last game of the season. 

To avoid heat stroke as the game went into hours 3 and 4, I headed back to town, for AC.  And to City Cafe. 

Now, this is what I'm talking about for historic charm for a food find in a small town well-restored historic district.  Exposed brick.   Painted brick wall in the other, adjoining dining room. (The other dining room is not charming - there is an icky gingham, floral feel in there.) Stay in the main dining room, pictured here.

All I needed and wanted was ice cold iceberg lettuce - and so I got the Chef Salad.  Not amazing, but I did not need it to be.  And the people could not have been nicer.

But what would I absolutely get next time?   Their MANY Elgin Hot Sausage items: omelettes, grilled sausage and onion and peppers sandwich. (Take notes, Newt's).

I also would get the 7-inch high lemon merinque pie I saw getting carved up.  I seriously do not think I have ever seen such a mountain of merinque.  The cake items look not too bad either.

City Cafe has a gorgeous wood beadboard ceiling.

That's what Newt's needs (in addition to better coffee and Elgin Hot Sausage items). And if Newt's does not have such wood beneath the acoustical tiles, they need to buy some of that historic charm.

And I, though back in Austin and back in the AC and thoroughly sunburned from the baseball game outing, will be getting some Elgin Hot Sausage - be it at Central Market or on the next day trip to Elgin.

 

 

 

Giada Reconsidered: Shoes, Salami and Chelsea Lately

A few readers know that there is just something about Giada de Laurentiis that annoys me.   I suspect it  has something to do with the tedium of my real life and real-life kitchen that is always needing to be tidied up it seems, and the fact that grand plans for dinner parties (like the “GourmandeMom Mostly 70s” Party I have in mind) get waylaid by court deadlines and son’s baseball schedule, not to mention the ongoing post-Paris pneumonia recovery.  

By contrast, she has: the perfect kitchen infused with light and bright white everywhere, the bubbly persona, the shininess and brightness of her perfect skin, big hair and Italian background, etc.  (And in that etc. I include the attractive adoring husband.)  Not to mention the idyllic home in the Pacific Palisades where she entertains her equally thin girlfriends.  

I first started coming around to recognizing the possibility of a little more dimension and soul to little Giada when I read on her web site (her site also is very white and clean and bright, as noted in previous post) that she began her culinary training at Le Cordon Bleu in Paris.  It does not say she finished there; she moved to California after that.  But still.  That is good street cred. 

But I came around a little more just recently when I saw her alongside Bobby Flay and Alton Brown as part of the new Food Network Series “The Next Food Network Star,” playing the role of one of the three mentors—Bobby and Alton being the two others.   She said, feistily, “we’re going to kick their butts.”    Whoa, easy there Giada.  And watching her just the other afternoon on an episode of that show, she’s showing her street smarts, culinary credibility, and niceness in a genuine soulful way…I thought maybe I had not given her a fair shake.   I realized that, maybe, just maybe, I should probably work on my own issues that are causing me to focus negative energy on sweet little Giada....  

Now I am convinced that Giada’s Food Network handlers are in fact on a mission to get her image made over.   Case in point:  her recent appearance on Chelsea Lately.  In case you don’t know, Chelsea is irreverent and raunchy, and all that is delivered with a signature deadpan style, punctuated with not-very-veiled references about Chelsea’s vodka habit and multifaceted “social” life.   So when Giada walked into the hot seat on stage the other night, this immediately put Giada in a whole new light.   I never thought about this before, too distracted by how white and bright Giada’s teeth are for example, like the white tile of her kitchen, but I guess if you’re male, you realize that Giada is rather attractive.   Giada’s effect on men folk was in fact part of the Chelsea interview.   That this may be part of a Giada revamp, creating or exploring other dimensions of Giada to get her out of a shiny stereotype, was readily apparent: 

First, she had on the most fantastic outfit for her tiny size 1 frame – of particular note the shoes.   Sleeveless tank, silk I think, tiny short skirt—not too short—but then there were these stunning tiny thin stiletto heels – brown.    I have no more details on the shoes because it was very late, I had my two-prescriptions-behind glasses on in bed, and Giada, already so tiny, is even more tiny on my tiny TV screen when viewed from the vantage point of my bed.   Chelsea also was obviously taken aback when Giada first walked on in her short skirt and legs and those shoes:  “Look at you – you’re such a tiny little nugget!”  (“Nugget” also is or used to be Chelsea’s term of endearment for her sidekick, comedic foil, Chuy.)

Second, Giada mentioned how nervous Chelsea’s brother gets when Giada is around.  

Third, Chelsea discussed with Giada a phenomenon that occurs whenever Giada makes an appearance somewhere, for a book-signing or whatever.   Apparently men show up in droves at her appearances—with salamis.   And the deal is they all ask Giada to sign the salami.   Giada admitted it creeped her out some at first (my wording), but now she takes in all in stride as good clean fun (my wording).   

So I’ve come around on Giada.  My kitchen, already fairly light and bright with white subway tile and an almost wall of windows (not with Pacific Palisades view though), may never be as perennially Clorox-grade pristine as Giada’s, and clearly I will not be ever be a size 1, and really do not want to be, but the shoes: the shoes I can obtain.   And I just ordered via Amazon her newest cookbook: Weeknights with Giada.  The cover is not too shiny. 

But what’s more hilarious:  Amazon, based on those secret and perhaps patent-protected algorithms, was able to let me know immediately what else people frequently purchased when they purchased “Weeknights with Giada: Quick and Simple Recipes to Revamp Dinner.”   The number one most-frequently purchased book with this Giada cookbook?  Fifty Shades of Grey.

I rest my case.