Virtual Gourmet

EDITOR'S NOTE: Readers may now access an Archive of all past newsletters--each annotated--dating back to July, 2003, by simply clicking on ARCHIVE .

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Cover Story: Los Angeles Dining, Part Two by John Mariani

Readers wishing to see back issues of this newsletter can go to the archive by clicking on: ARCHIVE .

LOS ANGELES DINING, PART TWO
by John Mariani

"Hip and Happening" are so often the guiding forces behind the success of a new Los Angeles restaurant that quality doesn't always count for much. In the case of the new restaurant and lounge CINCH (1519 Wilshire Boulevard; 310-395-4139), owner John Makhani and Chef Chris Beyre want the young and the restless to jam the bar but also wants the food to count for a whole lot, in the belief that nothing that is so hot of the moment can possibly be so months later; therefore only good food will continue to bring people--make that regulars--back.
Nevertheless the place has been designed by Dodd Mitchell for a max bar crowd, and the noise at Cinch can be deafening at the 30-seat bar, only slightly less so in the 120-seat main dining room (above) and at the mezzanine-like ring of tables above it. Noise bounces off the white brick walls and resounds around the entire restaurant.
Beyre, who has impressive credentials from Tetsuya's in Sydney and Mju in London, has spent considerable time on the Pacific Rim, so his menu focuses on Asian flavors and culinary styles, along with a separate sushi menu, whence come the kitchen's best efforts. as with a tempura roll of salmon, whitefish and avocado rolled with marinated rice and crab, smelt egg and shiso, with a white ponzu sauce. East-West fusion is encountered in lobster ravioli with tomato and nori vinaigrette, and in tuna tartare and radish ravioli with a blood orange and tomato salad. Noodle dishes are also in the Asian mode, while seafood gets treated gently, without overelaboration in dishes like sea bass filet with asparagus and shiitake sauce. One of the best dishes is Beyre's trio of foie gras items on one plate, with greens (below, right). uui

But it's a shame Beyre's Pacific fervor sometimes comes before flavor, for he uses Australian rack of lamb and New Zealand venison, when American versions of those meats are so far superior.
   Pastries toe much the same line, with sweets like Fuji apple pie with vanilla ice cream, and Meyer lemon cream with fuyu persimmon and vanilla shortbread cookie.
    You can certainly dine well at Cinch, but management must finally decide what it wants Cinch to be--a big loud trendy bar with good food, or a serious restaurant with a marginal bar crowd.
    The wine list offers 100 labels, with a fine selection from New World regions; 20 wines are served by the glass, and there are 14 half-bottles.
     Appetizers at Cinch run $6.50-$18; entrees $12.50-$27.50.

     The owners of Table 8 (7661 Melrose Avenue; 323-782-8258) have no reservations about offering up its celeb guest list to the gossip media each night, from Elton John and Diane Sawyer to Calista Flockhart and Jennifer Aniston, though I can't say I spotted any when I dined there several weeks ago. And far be it from me to remark on what to wear in L.A. hot spots, but for your edification, a local magazine declared that proper dress here includes, "Dressy flip-flops, cell phones and salon-approved hairstyles," none of which I'd packed.
     Supposedly Table 8's mundane name derives from the table at chef Govind Armstrong's last position, Chadwick, where he and partners Chris Heyman, Nikos Karalekas, and actor Jamie Kennedy planned out their new venture. Like the name itself, Table 8's decor is unpretentious, without no hint of razzle-dazzle, the colors muted in browns and creams, the lighting soft, with puffy pillows tossed here and there; the bar seating has been kept deliberately small so as to avoid the kind of rush a hot new restaurant can develop that might overwhelm the 80-seat dining room (below), though the place can get loud; neither is the music selection particularly adapted to good digestion.   The 40-seat lounge is available for dining too, with a separate menu and late night dining menu till 1 AM.

    Armstrong's food is, thank God, not flashy: He is a good, solid cook who keeps his ideas free of trendy frou-frou. Thus, you may have a plate of smoked sturgeon with a poached egg, frisée greens, and red wine vinaigrette, along with olive oil fried bread. There are several salads available as appetizers, along with sweetbreads with "torn pasta," a green garlic confit and roasted mushrooms. Sautéed sea scallops with cauliflower were juicy and came with a wonderfully assertive but not overly aggressive anchovy vinaigrette and toasted bread crumbs. Main courses include a delicious Liberty Farms duck breast with roasted apple, braised endive and hazelnuts, and for L.A. carnivores (there are many more than you think), there is a salt-crusted porterhouse of considerable heft.   As at Cinch, alas, the lamb at Table 8 is from New Zealand, which Armstrong contends he prefers to American, contending that many of his customers believe the latter too fatty (and, duh, therefore more flavorful).
    I was not much impressed by the desserts, but there is a good nightly selection of cheeses, with three selections for $12 and five for $15. Appetizers run $7-$15, entrees $19-$28. The wine list does not match the seriousness of the food here, with choices not much beyond the basics. It definitely needs boning up.

      The comparison of Southern California to the Italian Mediterranean has been made so often as to be tiresome, and scores of so-so Ital-Cal restaurants have done little to prove the point. Now, with the opening of Drago Enoteca (410 North Cañon Drive; 310-786-8236; www.celestinodrago.com), Sicilian-born Celestino Drago, having run several other Italian restaurants around town in recent years, is getting closer and closer to the ideal--a true trattoria with a convivial, homey atmosphere, even if this trattoria is in tony Beverly Hills on the site of what used to be an awkward reincarnation of Chasen's.

By calling it an "enoteca" Drago intends to showcase his wine list, which is not supposed to impress you by showcasing high-priced Italian cult wines but by having a selection of delicious, easy-to-drink regional vini italiani that go very well with the style of wholesome, hearty cooking here. There are more than 250 labels here, with 50 available by the glass in 2 1/2-ounce and 6-ounce pours, along with available flights of different varietals and wines, all under the stewardship of Jeff Morgenthal, formerly at Gary Danko in San Francisco.
    The premises are broken into a 60-seat dining room and 20-seat enoteca downstairs (and a 30-seat private dining room upstairs), with a communal table in cherry wood, accents of stone and terracotta, and fanciful spot and chandelier lighting, making this a very casual, low-key place with very serious Italian trattoria-style fare provided by Drago and his chef Stefan Richter. You might begin with an array of little (but filling) antipasti like olives stuffed with meats and herbs, or a carpaccio of monkfish and salmon, or the rice-filled croquettes called arancini di riso. But you don't want to miss having at least one thin-crusted pizza to share--perhaps a classic margherita or alla siciliana, with roasted eggplant, baked ricotta, and basil. Drago's are very good pizzas, not too thin, nice charred with bubbles, with a smoky, yeasty flavor in the crust. You may also select from Italian charcuterie and cheeses at the enoteca, and--mirabile dictu!--the restaurant is even open for breakfast, when you can get Drago's freshly baked breads or his Italian toast stuffed with Nutella and fresh strawberries.
     There are seven pastas available (with specials each night) that include authentic renderings of spaghetti alla carbonara with eggs, guanciale, and pecorino; the Sardinian toasted couscous called fregula, with a tomato-basil sauce; and the super-simple-but-sublime Roman dish spaghetti cacio e pepe, dressed with nothing more than cracked black pepper and pecorino. No idiotic caviar pasta here.
      There is marvelous simplicity to the entrees too--a pan-seared San Pietro (John Dory) with a lentil-vegetable ragoût; herb-marinated and spit-roasted chicken with Parmesan-dusted fried potatoes you will never want to stop eating; richly braised short ribs with spelt; and a bistecca alla fiorentina (below)--34 rare, juicy ounces of it yth

--from a porterhouse of Piemontese beef Drago specially orders. It serves at least two people handily, and if you share and ate a lot before it, even a couple more.
      It would be difficult not to love Drago Enoteca, especially if Celestino Drago is around to cajole you into trying this and that and to taste a little of these and sip a sip of a new wine from Calabria just brought in the door. It's a place of great, congenial ebullience, and in its authenticity adds true luster to the wheezing Italian restaurant scene of Los Angeles.
       Antipasti run $6-$12, pastas (full portions) $14-$16; pizzas $10-$13; main courses $18-$68 (for the bistecca for two).

Letter from Venice: Strolling the Rialto
by Kirsten Skogerson

Al Graspo de Ua
5094a Calle dei Bombaseri, Venice, Italy
Tel: 041-52001

There was no question in my mind how to savor a recent three-hour stopover in Venice. It was the perfect day for a leisurely stroll through the city—sunny and clear— but I had other plans. I jumped from the vaporetto, raced across the Piazza San Marco, blind to the splendors of the square, ignored the calls of the gondoliers as I crossed canals and the Rialto and made my way through the mazy streets of the city to Ristorante Al Graspo de Ua, restaurateur Lucio Zanon’s first Venetian venture after leaving as manager of Harry's Bar three years ago. Zanon is always here, lunch and dinner, greeting guests and suggesting wines (unless he's at his new restaurant, La Fenice next to the newly restored opera house).
Al Graspo's warm yellow walls, tastefully display artwork, and remarkable 13^th-century tile floor are a welcome contrast to the sometimes claustrophobic, dingy city streets. Venetian proverbs inscribed in decorative script on thick exposed wooden beams remind diners that “Bread and wine bring happiness” (Pan e vin, per far morbin) and “A good appetite doesn’t require anything fancy” (Chi ga’ bon apetito, no ga’ bisogno de salsa). I couldn’t agree more.
Market availability of ingredients determines the selection of Venetian classics offered on the menu at Al Graspo. But the kitchen can be innovative, too, and does not hesitate to experiment when inspired by the day’s purchases. After all, as one proverb asserts, “What pleases the palate pleases the stomach” (Quel che piase a la boca, fa ben al stomego). Yet another proverb pronounces enological wisdom, “Wine is the best medicine” (L’elisir el più divin, a la curta, l’è sto vin), any selection on Zanon’s comprehensive, but not overwhelming, list is sure to ease minor ailments without breaking the bank. In the competent hands of a hospitable server, I began with a flute of incredibly elegant and creamy Prosecco, which proved the perfect accompaniment for the bocconcini that appear: first, a crustless, toasted ham and cheese sandwich bite; next, some fresh mozzarella with oil and herbs; and finally, filleted bluefish dressed with lemon juice, olive oil and parsley served on toast.

   Appetite whetted, I ordered a bottle of the Vie di Romans Chardonnay '01 and began with the antipasto misto del Graspo de Ua, a dish that showcases both the kitchen’s proficiency and the glory of Venetian seafood. This particular afternoon it includes lightly dressed shrimp on a bed of greens with fresh mint; tender baby octopus in a celeriac slaw; crab salad cupped in a lettuce leaf; and smoked swordfish fillet dressed with lemon, herbs and olive oil. The seafood is fresh, the flavors clean. In the preparation of saltata di cozze e vongole veraci al Prosecco, clams and mussels are piled high in a bowl filled with their juices, served with grilled bread with which to polish off every last briny drop. The chardonnay complements both dishes; its complex aromas spanning pineapple, pear and peach are exquisite, and the smooth, full palate reveals good acidity on the finish.
   Having eaten risotto the previous four days at both lunch and dinner, I hesitated before ordering the risotto di mazzancolle e carciofini novelli, but I was rewarded with the best risotto I’ve ever eaten; the rice had the perfect toothsome texture, the prawns were succulent, and the artichokes heightened the sweetness of this satisfying, rich dish. Pennette con “copin” di tonnetto al profumo di mentuccia, penne with tuna in a pennyroyal-scented tomato sauce, was also impeccably prepared and, with its pungent seasoning, an interesting contrast to the risotto.
    “Appetite comes from eating” (La fame vien magnando) and mine hadn’t flagged yet. I finished with a Venetian classic, Seppie in tecia alla Veneziana con polenta alla grilia. The tender cuttlefish simmered in its own ink and spooned over squares of grilled polenta is was visually striking as it was delicious. The three hours had passed quickly and there was no time to linger over dessert or espresso. But as a sweet parting I received a quenelle of crème fraîche ice cream on a pool of yellow fig compote. I leave, “Full stomach, happy soul” (Corpo pien, anema consola).

A full-course meal anywhere in Venice these days will never be cheap, but at Graspo, you will dine splendidly for about $60 per person, with tax and service, but not with wine.

NEW YORK CORNER

LONG LIVE THE SELTZERMAN
by John Mariani
Photo by Galina Stepanoff-Dargery

h,hg Among those reasons I consider myself a very lucky fellow, I count the joy of having cases of real New York seltzer delivered to my back door every two weeks, in thick, beautiful antique clear, blue or green bottles with silver spigots, packed in wooden boxes segmented into twelve sections. That I am one of the few people left in New York, or anywhere else, who can actually get this service makes me feel quite special, for the man who delivers the seltzer, Walter Backerman, is very choosy about whom he takes on as a customer, sizing you up on the phone as to whether you’re serious about the subject of seltzer and needing to convince himself that his bottles will be safe with you.

    “When my grandfather started the business in 1919, it was the most commonplace thing,” says the mustachioed Walter (below), a brawny baseball-capped Queens resident who is happy to regale you with stories of seltzer history and the show biz stars fortunate to be taken on as customers. “Now it’s like I’m a survivor of the Titanic.” Indeed, Walter is one of only a handful of seltzer delivery men left, having taken over his father’s route in 1979, when there were still 25 like him. Walter says there are only two real seltzermen left in NYC. Maybe a couple more.
    Walter, whose moniker is "Mr. Bubbles," begins his day by bringing his bottles to be refilled at a soda factory in Brooklyn, the Gomberg Seltzer Works in Canarsie, which still has the ancient machinery to do the job. Then he drives different routes on different days, usually with a helper who loads the 75-pound crates onto the truck and delivers them on a handtruck. It's hard work, but Walter is well aware of his status as a survivor and missionary.
    The seltzer man was long a fixture of New York life and a few other cities. Seltzer itself, named after German water called "Selterser Wasser" made in the town of Nieder Selters, where it was first made in 1813. When immigrant Jews came to New York, they sold it in candy stores, bars and restaurants, and to people who believed it more healthful than city water, especially for the digestion, which is why it was lovingly referred to it as “belchwasser.” But as anyone who has ever seen a Three Stooges movie or a Thin Man flick knows, seltzer bottles were ubiquitous on cocktail bars, and used for comic effect as often as possible in vaudeville routines.

     Around the world seltzer became popular, and I have seen some extraordinarily beautiful old bottles in shades of pale pink and gold and lilac, etched with the seller’s name, in many countries where they are sold as antiques. Recently in Buenos Aires I came across a flea market stall that sold nothing but old seltzer bottles, some cut like diamonds and casting brilliant jewel-like colors in the sunlight. Walter himself sells some of his bottle on e-Bay for hundreds of dollars apiece, but he still has about 10,000 bottles stored for his service.
    It is an essential ingredient in making a real New York egg cream--the mother’s milk of those who grew up in candy stores and soda fountains where the drink was made   by putting an inch of U-bets chocolate syrup in a glass or paper cone, pouring in another inch of ice cold milk, and stirring while filling it up with seltzer (usually banked off the side of a spoon to create the right fizz) to create a foamy, creamy head, served with a complimentary pretzel stick on the side. It is difficult to explain the appeal of a well-made egg cream to anyone who didn't grow up drinking them, but the taste of them lingers long after childhood has passed into adulthood.
If you are lucky enough to be accepted onto Walter’s list of customers, you must be prepared for Walter himself. He is a very loquacious guy who can easily spend a half hour talking your ear off (my housekeeper always slips away from the door when she sees him coming), usually about how he had one of his seltzer bottles appear on a TV show, or how Barbara Walters told him what a wonderful thing it was that he did. His palaver is part of the deal.
    Other than that, all you need is $20 for a case of twelve beautiful bottles, which I guarantee will make for a conversation piece at your dinner table. Everyone will want to know how you even found the bottle and how you ref-fill it. And then you sigh and tell them that you are one of Walter's people, the last recipients of seltzer from one of the last of the seltzer men.

     If you live in the NYC Metro area and wish to contact Walter--but don’t expect instantaneous acceptance!--he’s reachable at 718-468-4047.

FOOD WRITING 101:
DO NOT BE THE 10,000th WRITER TO REFERENCE A CLICHÉ FROM THE "WIZARD OF OZ"

"The Rooster Café's outside is especially inauspicious: a giant red sign in plain block letters blares the restaurant's name, suggesting an all-you-can-eat buffet or pancake joint. I wonder how many unsuspecting first-timers have wandered in for a burger or tall stack, only to be flummoxed by menu items like layered leek-and-baked-tomato terrine with parsley juice, or the Australian venison daube stew over yam puree. Uh, Toto, I've got a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore."--Bianca Sienra, "Something to Crow About," Baltimore Magazine (April 2004).

"If you think about Greek food and its very true-to-the-earth character, you can imagine what Greek wine tastes like. Some had a slightly funky, earthy `we're-not-in-Kansas-anymore` nose that soon eased into something soulful and comforting."
--Dorothy J. Gaiter and John Brecher, "Opening Our Eyes to the Classics," Wall Street Journal (July 16, 2004).

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WACKY GERMAN DEPARTMENT

A man who allegedly broke into a Frankfurt, Germany, restaurant was arrested by police on the evidence of DNA from teethmarks he left in a half-eaten meatball at the restaurant.

EDITOR'S NOTE: This newsletter is also available on the very comprehensive food site www.sautewednesday.com
which has dozens of other links to food articles from around the world. New York Corner reviews are also available at
www.nycvisit.com/johnmariani

MARIANI'S VIRTUAL GOURMET NEWSLETTER is published weekly. Editor/Publisher: John Mariani. Contributing Writers: Robert Mariani, Naomi Kooker, Kirsten Skogerson, Edward Brivio, Mort Hochstein, Lucy Gordan. Contributing Photographers: Galina Stepanoff-Dargery, Bobby Pirillo. Technical Advisor: Gerry McLoughlin.

John Mariani is a columnist for Esquire, Wine Spectator, Diversion and the Harper Collection. He is author of The Encyclopedia of American Food & Drink (Lebhar-Friedman), The Dictionary of Italian Food and Drink (Broadway), and, with his wife Galina, the award-winning new Italian-American Cookbook (Harvard Common Press). To purchase from amazon.com, click on the image below.