Quince Chef's Table

The most charming restaurant in San Francisco that I know of is Quince. Housed in a small wooden building on a quiet street corner in Lower Pacific Heights, Quince’s 15 tables are usually filled up six nights a week. People eagerly come for the refined, contemporary Italian haute-cuisine of chef/proprietor Michael Tusk.

I love coming here, especially on early Sunday evenings, when the twilight filters softly into the pastel room creating a romantic atmosphere that makes me hungry. Food and sex--what urge could be more similar? Alas, I will miss such moments because the restaurant is moving to another location next month.

So to bask in the charms of this place for the last time, ten of us showed up on Sunday to dine in Quince’s inner sanctum, the vaunted chef’s table. This private dining area consists of a rustic farmhouse table set in the high-ceilinged lower kitchen, next to the pastry station. You’re isolated from the bustle of the main dining room upstairs, while the kitchen cooks you a custom menu and the staff pampers you even more. I felt like a mogul for a night.



The evening started with a beautiful amuse bouche of wild king salmon gravlax in a pool of Tusk's signature orange-prosecco sauce. Not only did it taste great, it looked great. Now I regret not going for the 7-course, which would’ve included the wild king salmon entrée.



But I reminded myself that our 6-course menu is a dream, and we weren't even there yet!



While waiting for the white wines to chill, we happily nibbled on splintery, citrus-infused breadsticks..



I liked that the chef's table is window seating, so natural light flows in during the early evening, plus you can vent in some fresh air through a side door. The pasta dryer screens the large windows that looked out to the street.



We brought seven bottles: two Amarones, a Barbaresco, two Barolos, a red Burgundy, and a white Burgundy. Yumm!



Wine service at Quince is skilled and attentive, and never pretentious. Sadly, over the years wine prices and corkage have risen too sharply. From $18 not too long ago, corkage is now $35 for the first two bottles and $50 thereafter. Ouch!


The first course of sea scallops topped with horseradish foam and apple slivers was refreshing and sweet. The bitter accent of the foam intensified the sweetness of the apple and scallops. A gorgeous and bold pairing with the rich 2006 Movia Ribolla Brda (Slovenia) on the wine list ($65).

Established decades before the Kingdom of Italy was created, Movia's estate in Collio (Brda) straddles modern-day Italy and Slovenia. Movia's Ribolla is amazingly full and flavorful. Deep, golden straw colored, with soft layers of peach, melon, and hops, finishing with a hint of white pepper. Delicious as it is now, this Ribolla can age over thirty years or more. I'm a fan of this producer and, though few know of it, at Vineyard Gate we've been selling this wine for years.




The 1989 Domaine Leflaive Puligny-Montrachet Clavoillon was amazingly fresh, bright, and youthful. It had such rich fruit that I don't doubt this would age another ten years. 1989 is, indeed, a benchmark vintage for Leflaive.

We paired the Leflaive with both the scallops and the divine tagliatelli (a last-minute switch from the fettucine) with dungeness crab--it was perfect. Though, I'd say, the Movia was more interesting with the scallops. Yet, the Leflaive, with its botrytised fruit, was heavenly with the fennel-infused tagliatelli.

Just for contrast and because we drained the Leflaive quickly, we ordered the 2005 Germain Pere et Fils St. Romain Blanc on the wine list ($55). Totally unfair to compare with the Leflaive, but the St. Romain did its thing. It was flowery and crisp, perhaps too light after the Leflaive, but a tasty lubricant to the bread that I used to wipe the sauce off my plate.

As far as I'm concerned, the evening's two most memorable courses were the tagliatelli and the tortelli of carbonara that followed. This didn't surprised me, as Tusk's pasta dishes are always sublime. The strips of tortelli, filled with speck (Italian-style ham), were intensely flavored and exploded in the mouth. The course was so miniscule that I'm sure I finished it in less time than it took to plate it. It was awesome.

By the time we reached the third course the reds have been opened and decanted for about an hour. First up was the 1988 Domaine Maume Mazis-Chambertin, Maume's flagship wine. Anh Thu asked me what bottle she could bring, and when I saw the '88 Maume as one of the choices I didn't hesitate. '88 grands crus are drinking lovely these days. Mainly under radar, too, which makes them taste even sweeter, the satisfaction of having proved the Burgundy experts (and their dedicated score monkeys) wrong once again.

The Mazis was darkly colored and packed with fleshy red fruits and sweet licorice spice. It felt soft and juicy with a velvety tannin backbone. Some may opt to age this further, and why not? But I like its fruitiness now, as Mazis has a tendency to harden with age.

With our meat courses, the Nebbiolos were poured together. 1990 Rocche Costamagna Barolo Vigna Francesco, a single-cru Barolo, was a classic La Morra--feminine, forward and fruity. It is in fine form, the tannins are rich and it has very good balance.

A muscular, powerful Barolo was the 1990 Domenico Clerico Barolo Pajana, the debut vintage of this single-cru Barolo. Clerico adheres to modern Barolo-making, but his wines age long and well. I think traditionalists shouldn't be too critical of his wines, but his prices are another matter! I like the way this wine is showing. It is, of course, way too young, unlike the Vigna Francesco. This has high acidity, as it should be, allied with marvelous fruit concentration. Its bouquet is beguiling.

The 1988 Gaja Barbaresco simply gets better with time. It is another high acid wine, but unlike the Clerico its fruit is more supple. Yet, this Gaja pulls it off as it is expansive on the palate, hence it tastes filled in. Layers of red fruits and plum liqueur, and hints of anise. On the nose, it has gobs of rose petals.


After the Nebbiolos were poured, the table was a sea of glasses. As the night wore on I was having trouble finding that '88 Barbaresco!

Much as it excited me, as I can't ever remember doing it, I had my doubts on tasting two Amarones side-by-side on a summer night. But then again , we are in San Francisco. I was also worried that paired with the fatty heritage pork, the Amarones would obliterate the dish. On the other hand, the chocolate torchon might be too dessert-like for these dry wines. So the safe bet was to order some cheese. Alas, the cheese plate, wonderful though it was, lacked a Parmigiano-Reggiano, the touted accompaniment to Amarone.

However, upon tasting the 1964 Bertani Recioto della Valpolicella DOC Amarone (during this time the DOC was not yet Amarone) Steve concluded that it could have paired well with the pork. Too late, the pork was history, but I agreed.

The '64 Bertani was supremely fresh and elegant, its fruit was bright and its acidity was fully intact. For a big wine it was unbelievably refined. Suave and silky, filled with macerated fruits, dried cranberries, and cinnamon bark. What a treat!

In contrast the 1997 Masi Amarone della Valpolicella Classico Campolongo di Torbe, from a ripe year, was dense and fruity like a baked blackberry pie. Its tannins and acidity were blanketed by the heady fruit concentration. This is a powerful and delicious Amarone; with something like gorgonzola cheese and dried figs it would even be more pleasurable. But to reach the finesse of the Bertani more patience is required.


Quince
1701 Octavia, San Francisco, CA
Tel 415.775.8500
Open for dinner Tuesday-Sunday
(last night on this location is Aug. 30th)

Las Vegas Thai

I was in Las Vegas the other day, where I vowed to dine in what America's food cognoscenti ostensibly judges "the best Thai restaurant in the country". I regard this sweeping pronouncement as rather pompous. How can anyone make that claim? Why my neighborhood Thai joint, Thai Stick, occasionally rises to that superlative, I believe.




Neon signs, standard in this large strip mall, cast an alien glow at night



Lotus of Siam occupies a unit in an aging strip mall in a rough area of north Las Vegas Strip. Out-of-towners don't just wander here, it is a strange place to be, in the shadow of the bright lights, polished marble, and glass glitz of the Bellagio or the Wynn's. As I entered, parties dropped off by limo service head straight to their waiting tables.




Without a reservation, I was consigned to the waiting area for an hour gazing at framed reviews from Gourmet, the Robb Report (???), and David Rosengarten and at pictures of famous people who made the trek before me.




The menu is more extensive and varied than any Thai resto I've visited, and features an entire page of dishes from the North, where Thailand meets Myanmar and Laos.




But the other reason for the pilgrimage to Lotus of Siam is the extensive wine list. The resto keeps a 5,000 bottle cellar, about half of it in-house and the rest off-site. Offered are dozens of German and Austrian Rieslings, various vintages of Raveneau's Chablis Montee de Tonnerre, Dagueneau's Pouilly-Fumes, and Chateau Haut-Brion Blanc, among others. The prices are quite reasonable, $195 for a 1995 Raveneau Chablis Montee de Tonnerre, for example. The wine service is precise and without fuss.




Tom Yum Kai ($14.95 for the flaming pot). Thailand's famous hot (both in temperature and taste) and sour soup. Someone listed it as one of the ten best soups in the world. I can't disagree, especially this Lotus of Siam version. It reminds me much of my beloved sinigang.




Ah, the Soft Shell Crab Salad ($17.95), crispy quarters of soft shell crab on a melange of julienned cabbage, carrot, granny smith apple, chili, and ginger, dressed with sweetened lime juice and sprinkled with peanuts and cilantro. Everything comes together. Crunchy and refreshing!




Crispy Duck Curry ($19.95). It was indeed crispy and surprisingly not greasy, but the thick curry sauce weighed down the dish.




Crab Fried Rice ($12.95). Again, not greasy at all. I preferred this over the steamed rice, though the flavor of the crab meat got lost. Red Lantern in Redwood City serves a meaner version.




A unique feature of the menu is a section on sea bass. I love the dense, buttery meat of this fish. The Deep Fried Sea Bass on Drunken Noodle ($23.95) arrived smothered in Thai basil. Trust me, it was perfectly cooked.




Chunks of the crispy fried sea bass infused with basil leaves.




In southeast Asia, sticky rice, sweetened or unsweetened, is a favorite snack, and with mango it finds a heavenly partner. Sticky rice with mango is like going back home for me. This Lotus of Siam Sticky Rice with Mango ($7.95) is a luxurious version with its generous quantity of ripe mango slices. I totally enjoyed it. Still, Pagan, a Burmese resto in San Francisco, serves a more memorable one.




I was drinking almost by myself, otherwise I would've ordered another bottle as the wine list is so tempting. Yet, it was easy to pick the right bottle to have this evening, that's the brilliance of a list with a good range. The 1998 Franz Hirtzberger Riesling Federspiel ($32) has good body and is bone-dry. It came to the table chilled at the right temperature and poured by the waiter in tall, good-size glasses. Golden straw-colored, somewhat viscous, infused with citrus oil, crunchy Asian pear, apricot, and minerals, it proved wonderful with every dish.


Lotus of Siam
53 E. Sahara Ave.
Las Vegas, NV 89104
Tel. (702)735-3033
Lunch: Monday-Friday
Dinner: Every night
(Advisable to reserve at least a day in advance)

Cassis and Bouillabaisse

Where do I find good bouillabaisse in the Bay Area?

I have the best white wine to pair with this famed Provençal fish stew, the 2007 Cassis Blanc from Clos Sainte-Magdeleine.

The last time I enjoyed a bouillabaisse was a few years ago at Chez Gilbert in the old port of Cassis. I washed it down with the local Cassis blanc, unfortunately it wasn't the Clos Sainte-Magdeleine.

The best producer of Cassis blanc is the estate of Clos Sainte-Magdeleine. I don't think I've ever visited a more beautiful winery. Set on the edge of a sheer limestone cliff overlooking the blue waters of the Mediterranean and the calanques of Cassis, its vineyard rises up on the foots of Cap Canaille, the highest cliff in France. It's a breathtaking scene.

Tall pines and shrubs surround the vineyard where Ugni Blanc, Clairette, Marsanne, and Sauvignon Blanc are planted. These grapes make up the blend for the Cassis Blanc of Clos Sainte-Magdeleine.

If you ever find a resto that serves good bouillabaisse, or if you have the skill to whip one up yourself, make sure you drain some of the 2007 Clos Sainte-Magedeleine Cassis Blanc between slurps. You'll be in heaven for sure.

Me & Julia

I became a Julia Child fan in the 1980s while living in Beantown--ground zero for Julia worship. I hanged out with other foodies equally obsessed with Julia. I perused her books and tuned in to her WGBH TV shows regularly. I even lived in the same town she did (Cambridge), often shopped at her favorite food store (Savenor's), and was a regular at the Somerville Wine and Cheese Cask, just a few blocks from her house.

My friends and I wouldn't dare use a kitchen gadget or appliance that didn't meet Julia's approval. No pressure-cookers or microwave ovens. The garlic press had to be Zyliss. But we took immediately to Cuisinart because Julia ok'd that from the get-go.

Some of my friends actually bumped into her while she was on her errands around town. Alas, I never had such luck.

When I moved to the West Coast in the 1990s Julia's heyday was over--Emeril and the Food Network dominated the cooking airwaves, while the Iron Chef series took cuisine to the edge. There were new culinary heroes, too, like Thomas Keller, Jean-Georges, and Charlie Trotter. Haute-cuisine was everywhere.

A year before I opened my wine store, I was back in Boston on business for my employer. The only part of business travel I looked forward to was checking out interesting restaurants while in town. On my way to the hotel at the end of day, I passed by the newly opened Café Louis in the plush men's department store, Louis of Boston. George Germon of Al Forno, Providence's best restaurant, was the consulting chef, so I just have to make a reservation for dinner that night.

Strolling back to the restaurant I stopped by a bookstore in the Pru to pick up Jasper White's newly published Lobster at Home. I find it useful to have a book to browse when dining alone.

The restaurant was nearly empty when I got there--slow weeknight or grand opening pains it seemed. I was seated at one of the tables by the wall that shared a long bench with three separate tables.

After I ordered, the dull quiet in the restaurant ceased when a group of five elderly, boisterous women marched in and got seated next to me. Good thing I had my book handy, and fortunately the woman sitting next to me on the bench seemed the most subdued, she kept mostly silent while her friends chatted loudly, emphatically inserting French words as they spoke in Boston-accented voices--ssuperr! tres tres bien! Kinda odd because the restaurant was Italian.

I twiddled my fork and hunched over my book in an effort to ignore them. Finally, the woman sitting next to me also joined the conversation. I immediately noticed her voice was high-pitched, chirpy, and warbly--strangely familiar. I glanced at her shoulder unable to see her face, unless I impolitely stared up, as she towered over me. She must have seen the cover of the book I was reading because she turned to me and asked, 'Is that Jasper's new book?' At that point, without even looking at her, it hit me. I know this person. It was Julia--sitting, freakin' elbow-to-elbow with me on the bench! And now she's striking up a conversation with me!

Birthday Wines

Drinking birth year wines is a favorite tradition among wine lovers. Those fortunate enough to be born in years like 1945, 1959, 1961, 1966, 1969, 1970, 1971, 1982, and so forth, are flush with great wines to toast their beginnings.

Others may not be so blessed, particularly those born in 1954, 1957, 1958, 1962, 1973, etc. because these happen to be dreary vintages for the long-lived wines of Bordeaux, Burgundy, Port, Champagne, Barolo, and Napa Cabernets.

In actuality, though, wine has an almost mischievous bent to surprise and, even more so, an ability to elude wine critics and scores. I have written about many of those wines borne under poor vintages which proved to be triumphant and more resilient than can be imagined.

A 1954 Chateau Latour, 1979 Sassicaia, 1967 Chateau Haut-Brion, 1982 Henri Jayer Echezeaux, 1983 DRC Grands-Echezeaux, 1986 Leroy Meursault, and 1994 Chateau de Beaucastel, just to name a tiny sample, have all bucked the prevailing vintage charts and turned out to be great, memorable wines. Why? Well, I have my thoughts but that's another subject entirely.

My good friend, Steve, celebrated his birthday yesterday and so we opened a bunch of great wines to accompany the haute-cuisine of our favorite food joint, Unicorn Pan-Asian Restaurant in San Francisco.

There was little, if any, rhyme to the flow of wines we uncorked. First off was the 1957 R. Lopez de Heredia Vina Tondonia Rioja Blanco. A spectacular white to start any dinner. Though hailing from the north, this was almost Andalucian in character, with amontillado-like nutty-dryness and suffused with dried apricots and minerals.

In tandem with the white Rioja was another '57, no, not a Chevy, but the 1957 Domaine de Mont-Redon Chateauneuf du Pape Rouge. This was made with eighty percent Grenache, and when tasted back in 1989 by Rhone writer, John Livingstone-Learmonth, was described as "well advanced, with a precarious richness still apparent among a host of coffeee and toasted aromas." Well, twenty more years forward my own experience of this wine was stellar. Licorice, red fruit scents. Juicy, fresh red plums with undertones of cedar, pepper, and dark chocolate. Brilliant concentration and structure. Long, gentle finish.

After the venerable Chateauneuf, a white Burgundy followed, the 1995 Maison Leroy Chassagne-Montrachet Morgeot. A flawless white Burgundy bearing fresh pear, citrus oil, and mineral flavors. Golden straw-colored. Batard-like depth but with the lighter body of a premier cru.

Any of the preceding wines could easily be the highlight of the evening, but a pair of DRCs can not be denied. The 1997 DRC Echezeaux was subdued on approach, its bouquet of sweet spice, violets, and rose petals steadily soaring. Soft-textured, fleshy, and well-concentrated; as I focused on it, the more it grew on me. I found its understated character, perfect balance, and charming elegance very beautiful.




Our birthday boy treated us to a timeless wine, the 1976 DRC Romanee-Saint-Vivant "Marey-Monge". This was made during the period DRC was still farming the RSV parcel for the heirs of the Marey-Monge family, who at one time owned the RSV in its entirety (DRC subsequently acquired the plot in 1988). Like many of the vintage's reds, 1976 DRCs have good concentration but hard tannins that never seem to come around. But on this night, this '76 RSV was so seductive and regal. Rose petals, cherry liqueur nose. Intense ripe, sweet red fruits, round, expansive, seductive, and haunting. It was like opening a chest full of great memories. Very long, youthful, and still full of promise.


Post Script:
I really like to end the post with this '76 DRC RSV, but we did drink a few other wines afterwards. A 1991 Valduero Gran Reserva "12 Anos" Ribera del Duero showed a yummy sweet, vanilla American oak toast scents and dense black fruit concentration. The 2004 Chateau de Fargues Sauternes from the Lur Saluces family (longtime owners of Yquem) has a very lovely botrytised, butterscotch nose. It was elegantly sweet with spicy caramel notes and a graceful, long exit. Finally, the 1993 Chateau Pajzos Tokaji 5 Puttonyos had a waxy, honeycomb scent immediately followed by bright red apple flavors. It was very concentrated, intense, powerful, and long. A mere infant at this point.

Donato Enoteca: First Look

My first dinner tonight at Donato Enoteca was a success in every way. To be fair the restaurant is just on its third day of opening, plus I invited some prima donna friends to come with me. Chef/proprietor Donato Scotti did not fail us with his pristine food, while the staff followed through with friendly, competent service.





The wine service, in particular, was overachieving. Seven of us brought half a dozen bottles, and, of course we wanted everything chilled, decanted, and served in individual Riedel glasses, pronto. No sweat. Wine director, Eric Lecours, was unperturbed, proceeding methodically and precisely with the corkscrew and glassware. Shinya Tasaki would be impressed.




The 1982 Taittinger Comtes de Champagne Brut Blanc de Blancs was magnificent with our antipasti. Steely, rich, nutty, with long, elegant flavors.




Calamari and white bean salad with baby spinach. The squid was tender, but the beans were still a bit firm; nevertheless, this was simple, light, and pure.




Prosciutto-wrapped pillow of puffed pastry. I've never had this combo before. Interesting, but the puffed pastry did little for me, it was the rich quality of the prosciutto that was mouthwatering.




Donato's signature Bruschetta di Cinghiale or braised wild boar, onion and Chianti vinegar spread on grilled bread. The Italian take on deconstructed pulled-pork sandwich. Tender shreds of tasty pork with a delicious, slightly tangy seasoning. This was devoured quickly. We should have ordered more.




My rustic plate of veal chop. Crusty, juicy, perfectly cooked.




1959 Chateau Grand-Puy-Lacoste, Pauillac. Like what you'd expect from a '59, really beautiful. Fresh currants and dark berries with cedary notes and lovely tannins. Muscular sweetness. Drinking perfectly now.




1981 Tenuta San Guido Sassicaia, Bolgheri. Earthy currant nose. Bright, earthy blackberries. Cool and fresh in the mouth. Precise, elegant, and high-toned. A focused wine that demands the right food, like a rare steak.




1996 Gaja Darmagi Langhe. A great wine with enormous potential. The fruit is dense, sweet, earthy, and mineral with layers of currants, figs, and spices. Velvety tannins. Powerful and persistent. This will evolve for decades! Amazing what Cabernet Sauvignon can do in Barbaresco.


1993 Ornellaia, Bolgheri. Superb. Drinking perfectly. I don't know much about the history of Ornellaia. I thought this was Merlot-based but I was wrong. This vintage is mostly Cabernet Sauvignon with some percentage of Merlot and Cabernet Franc. No wonder it was fragrant with cedary currants and mulberry. Creamy, lush, earthy cassis and cherry fruit. Elegant and perfectly balanced.


Donato fired up his gelato machine and made us an assortment of refreshing gelati. A great way to finish the meal. Luxurious dense, creamy texture, with just enough air to float in the mouth and savor the intense, pure fruit taste. Most enjoyable gelati I've ever had!



Freshly-made gelato of wild berry and limoncello.




Freshly-made gelato of pistacchio, vanilla, and chocolate.


I shall be returning many times to Donato's Enoteca. Already the prospects for getting a great meal look very bright. Bravo!


Donato Enoteca
1041 Middlefield Road
Redwood City, CA 94063
650.701.1000
Open everyday for lunch and dinner

The Ultimate Wine Book?

Thudding in at 8.21 pounds, 926 pages, the revised edition of Wine stops a door cold and doubles as a weight for deadlift exercises. It is a formidable use of paper.

Wine is also a great read. The concise, unassuming title is deceptive--unadorned with self-aggrandizing attachments as "Bible", "Encyclopedia" or "Atlas". Yet, few if any topic on wine escapes its pages. I never thought it possible but it rivals the two go-to tomes on my shelf: The World Atlas of Wine and The Oxford Companion to Wine--perhaps even surpassing both.

Want to know about French oak forests and barrel-making? It's there. Biodynamics? Yup. Grape varietals? Check. Wine tasting methodology? Covered. Viticulture, including pruning methods and grape ripening? Yes. Terroir? You bet.

But the meat of the book are the chapters detailing the world's winegrowing regions with visually illustrative maps and color photographs of vineyards and producers. Major and smaller wine regions are treated with equal passion. Mediterranean countries with long winegrowing histories--Croatia, Greece, Turkey, Cyprus, Lebanon, Israel, Tunisia, Algeria, and Morocco--are discussed well, instead of skipped over as in other books.

But what I love most of all is pages are crammed with information. Sidebars highlight key topics as the confusing German Wine Law, obscure regions as the Coteaux de Pierrevert in Provence, acreage of each appellation in the Cote de Beaune and Cote de Nuits, and sustainable winegrowing trends in California.

Edited by Andre Domine, who has been a contributor to the Culinaria series, and authored by him and seventeen other wine writers, this is a masterful wine book that is hard to put down despite its heft.


Wine
Edited by Andre Domine
Published 2008 H.F. Ullmann $59.95