Dining in Spain (a.k.a., Dining at Tia Pol)

Whenever I encounter restaurants where numerous reviews expound upon the “epic” waits, I always wonder if any place could be worth such a wait. However, at one particular restaurant in Chelsea, Manhattan, we decided to brave the wait, based on the rave reviews, and some personal recommendations from a Jodi and a Tom, both fellow barflies at our local favorite in Adams Morgan, Washington DC, Cashions Eat Place. Therefore, as planned, we arrived at Tia Pol, at 205 10th Avenue last night at approximately 8:15 PM.

As we walked up, we noticed it seemed to be about the size of a closet, and was packed to the gills with people sipping sangria. The hostess gave us a wait time of 1 hour and 15 minutes. Desperate to sit down after a day of hiking around Manhattan, we gave her my phone number, and peeked into the next door restaurant Isakaya Ten. There we found a wonderful and chatty bartender, and a unique quirk for regulars: you can order a whole bottle of Shochu from their extensive list, and if you don’t finish it, you can put your name on it and have it for the next time you visit. Our hour wait was therefore spent mercifully having a lovely glass of Shochu in air-conditioned comfort, before the main event…an amazingly authentic meal at Tia Pol.

There are very few seats in this little restaurant, and the menu is one laminated page long or small plates, with the daily specials written on a chalkboard behind the bar. The wine list has a broad range of prices on excellent Spanish wines, and the staff is very knowledgeable about each of the wines and dishes available. After our preferred Rioja was unavailable, our waiter recommended a 2003 Laurona Montsant, from the Priorat region of Catalonia. 50% Garnacha, 25% Merlot, 15% Syrah, and 10% Cabernet, and aged for a year in French Oak, it was well balanced, light, and hinted of stewed fruits. A perfect wine for the broad range of flavors we were about to embark on. Everything we saw looked excellent, but here is the list of tapas we ate, representing a broad range of flavors and textures:

1. Montadito de crema de habitas con beyos: a fava bean puree, with just a hint of garlic on toasts, drizzled with excellent extra virgin olive oil (we had them hold the beyos cheese, as it is a cow’s milk cheese, and I am allergic)
2. Gildas: ondarroan anchovies, pickled peppers, and green olives on little martini skewers. It was the perfect little snack, and I’m dreaming of making a martini using these…
3. One of the daily specials, four perfectly small slices of grilled rare white tuna served chilled with a cilantro, almond, and olive oil pesto, and a white bean salad of beans, onions, and olive oil. Eaten alone, the tuna was rather bland, but eaten together, the three elements complimented each other perfectly.
4. Paquetitos de jamón con alcachofa: crushed artichoke hearts mixed with anchego cheese and wrapped into three perfect little triangles of Serrano ham. It was a lovely combination of creamy-ness and salt
5. Piquillos rellenos de ensaladilla rusa: what I would consider one of the highlights of the meal, four small roasted red sweet peppers, stuffed with a puree of potato, garlic, and pimento, topped with shredded pickled white tuna, and served with a salad of watercress. It was at once creamy, tangy, and bitter, and served at the midpoint of the meal was the perfect pallet cleanser after the heaviness of the grilled tuna and the ham
6. Granicha: charred baby green long peppers, simply tossed in salt, were at once bitter and salty, and I can see these served at a bar with some almonds as a nice accompaniment with a cold beer on a hot day.
7. Navajas y almejas: razor clams and cockles, which were perfectly cooked and tender in white wine, garlic, parsley, and butter. We must have gone through a whole loaf of bread sopping up the broth
8. And finally for dessert, we chose a cheese plate including Valdeon (a cow/sheep’s milk blue cheese), Manchego (a creamy lightly aged sheep’s milk), and Garrotxa (a wonderfully stinky goat cheese). Also included on the platter were roasted marcona almonds, lightly candied and spiced walnuts, and the best preserved red cherries I have ever had.

It was a truly decadent evening, with the only downside being the wait. Needless to say, next time I am in New York City, I will be returning for another authentic Spanish treat!

Not For the Weak of Stomach

There are many cultures that have some form of cook-your-own food at the table. In Japan you have shabu-shabu, in Korea you have barbeque, in France you have fondue, and in China you have hot pot. Two different regions of China are particularly famous for their hot pots, Hunan and Sichuan. In the United States, we often see something called “hot pot” in Chinese restaurants, but it bears little resemblance to the boiling cauldrons of delicious goodness that is hot pot (火锅).

In China, hot pot restaurants are often on the second floor of buildings, in big halls, with tons and tons of tables. When you sit down you are presented with an unintelligible menu (unless you are fluent in reading Chinese that is) of often hundreds of items. But it all starts with the selection of soup. My personal favorite choice is the dual bowl, which looks like a Yin Yang. On one side there is a white soup, usually made with ginger, mushrooms, tons of garlic, and a chicken broth; and on the other side there is the red soup, made with the same chicken broth as the white soup, but with the noted addition of tons and tons and tons of red chilis, oil, more garlic, Sichuan peppercorns, various spices, and lots more red chilis and oil:

From my experience, each individual hotpot restaurant has slightly different flavors. Some are hotter, some have more Sichuan peppercorns (which have an intensive nutty flavor and a numbing quality), and some have more cumin or other spices. Today I had an excellent specimen which was wonderfully sweat-inducing spicy, but also had tons of spice, and more garlic than I’ve seen in a long time. There was a balance to the hotpot at this place that made you want to keep eating forever, even when your stomach is so full you want to keel over.

After you choose your broth, you choose a selection of meats, vegetables, and noodles that are brought to your table in massive quantities as the delicious hell-broth boils at your table. Today I had a combination of lamb, spinach, Napa cabbage, black mushroom, tofu, sliced white yams, and finished it all with handmade fresh noodles.

Someday I hope I can find a hotpot restaurant in the United States, but until then I will have to indulge my obsession only when in China…

Feasting at 小王府 (Xiao Wang Fu’s), Beijing, China

I arrived in Beijing, China yesterday, for what is probably my 20^th trip here over the years. Whenever I come to Beijing, I regularly make it a point to take a trip to 小王府 (Xiao Wang Fu), particularly the lovely version in日坛公园 (Ritan Park). This park is a great little place in the center of the old Embassy district, and though the Xiao Wang Fu’s restaurant is much more expensive than a basic Chinese restaurant, it is worth it for the consistent quality and the relaxing atmosphere.

As with all really good Chinese meals, there should always be a huge variety of dishes, with a significant number of flavor profiles. It is traditional that one person orders for the entire party, and in this instance I cannot take credit for the lovely meal that resulted. I arrived late to the party, a dinner with ex-colleagues and good friends, due to the jetlag, and ordering was well underway. In all, between six of us, we had nine dishes, a typical ratio in China. Unlike American culture, it is inappropriate to “clean your plate” as it were, as that would indicate the host has not adequately provided for your hunger. The spicy, sweet, tangy, rich, and smoky dishes we all shared were wonderful as usual, and what I have come to expect of Xiao Wang Fu’s.

Dishes included Gong Bao Ji Ding (typically known in America as Kung Pao Chicken…though the Chinese version bears little resemblance to what you find in the U.S.), Yu Xiang Rou Si (a spicy, sweet, and tangy pork and shredded vegetable), Pork Ribs in Black Bean Sauce, Spicy Peanut Turnips (a cold appetizer), Twice-Fried Green Beans with Pork, Stir Fried Spinach with Garlic, Fresh Shrimp with Chestnuts and Celery, and two “main dishes” (a.k.a., noodles): Old Beijing Noodles and Stir-Fried Noodles. And of course it was accompanied by the ever-present Yanjing Beer!

Cured Meat Heaven

As a child, I was not exposed to anything like traditional Italian, whether it be antipasti or real homemade pasta. It was however, my first food love (see my first post), and the first food that I attempted to cook. Granted, my culinary skills have developed extensively since my first attempt at Fettuccine Carbonara in the early-90s, and I can make a mean Marinara or even some lovely stuff from the Silver Spoon cookbook. However, my skills are nothing compared to the skill required to make the king of all antipasti, the beautiful, delicious, salty, fatty, fantastic cured meats that are among the best things that a great Italian meal can offer.

One of my favorite local joints here in Washington, DC for really good Italian antipasti is 2 Amy's. I have a weakness for their woodfired pizza, but on Saturday afternoon it was all about the antipasti. They have a truly remarkable collection, from cannellini beans with grated botarga, to three different kinds of salted anchovies in olive oil, or a wonderful selection of olives. However, my personal favorite is their "grande piatto di salume:"

This cured meat lover's dream includes: proscuitto san daniele, proscuitto americano la quercia, jamon di serrano, speck, bresaola, boar cacciatorini, lardo, capicola, and lomo. It is a ridiculous quantity of lovely cured meats, but well worth the fat content. Each meat has a unique texture and flavor, from the salty gaminess of the boar cacciatorini, to the silky soft and luscious lardo, no two bites are the same. Paired with ample quantities of good Italian red wine (in this case a 2005 De Angelis Lacrima Christi del Vesuvio from Campania), our meal was a three hour feast not to be soon forgotten.