Fashion, Feathers and Festive Food

I am definitely not the clothes horse in the family. My husband's wardrobe occupies a much more substantial portion of our closet than mine. My coffee table magazines lean mostly towards the food realm, with a smattering of home décor thrown in for good measure.  So when the opportunity arose to attend a runway show at the Waldorf-Astoria in New York City this past weekend, I was intrigued.  I have heard of Couture Fashion Week of course, and have seen the clips on television in the past, but here was a chance to see a show up close and personal.  Luis Machicao, a talented and creative clothing designer from Peru, who also happens to be a close friend of my brother-in-law, offered our family front row seats to his Fall 2012 Couture Collection.

Our event was a trio of designers with three completely different styles. They were all spectacular but Luis' runway show took my breath away.  The collection appeared to be  inspired by the indigenous peoples of the Americas, emphasizing bright primary colors trimmed with geometric patterns.  The models wore their hair fashioned into headdresses intertwined with feathers and their faces shimmered with glitter.  They moved down the runway one by one, some in rhythm to the festive Latin music.   The show finished as an ensemble, a human kaleidoscope of color.  After congratulating Luis and taking (and posing for!) photographs, I started thinking about food again, my more familiar territory.

We decided to stay with the theme of the fashion show and went for Mexican food at a festive restaurant on the Upper East Side called Maz Mezcal.  The name comes from a distilled alcoholic beverage that is particularly popular in Oaxaca, Mexico where it is said:  “Para todo mal, mezcal, y para todo bien tambien” (for everything bad, mezcal, and for everything good, as well.) The drink is produced by  roasting the heart of the maguey plant, a form of agave native to Mexico.  This roasting  lends an intense, smoky flavor to mezcal and you'll often find a worm in the bottle besides!  We decided to go with tequila instead and had margaritas. 

I settled on a chicken dish with roots dating back to the pre-Columbian Aztec culture:  Mole Poblano.  This traditional Mexican Indian recipe has a sauce with seven distinct chile varieties, dark bittersweet chocolate, and crunchy roasted sesame seeds.  The combination was velvety rich and spicy.  If you would like to make a mole sauce at home you can try David Lebowitz' Chocolate Mole Recipe http://www.davidlebovitz.com/2005/11/a-frugal-gourme/ and serve it over baked chicken or crispy cooked carnitas.  The perfect chocolate to use for this, or any mole recipe, is Dolceria Bonajuto chocolate from Sicily.  When the Bonajuto family emigrated from Spain to Italy in the 1600's, they brought with them their meticulous passion for fine chocolate and became the first chocolate producer in Sicily. They use the same ancient techniques that the Spaniards learned from the Aztecs, such as cleaning the cacao by hand and keeping it at a low temperature so that the sugar does not melt, thus preserving its unique texture, deeply intense chocolate flavor and the highest level of antioxidants.

Rafael, my husband opted for Kurt's Bamboleo, a thinly pounded skirt steak, rolled around a mixture  of cheese, peppers, and chorizo.   Chorizo, a Spanish sausage made with pork, pork fat, salt and dried smoked chili peppers, adds a burst of flavor to almost any dish.  It can be sweet or spicy, fresh sausage or cured, but the spicy smoke-cured version is my favorite.  On Saturday, February 25^th I'll be sampling both the Dolceria Bonahuto chocolates and Spanish chorizo in the Cheese Department at Sickles Market.  Come and try the combination: it is a surprising and delicious pairing, just like the mole.  It will turn any meal into a festivity!

Enjoy!

Cheri

Andean Cheese Fantasy

Spending a day at Hacienda Zuleta in Ecuador was a fromage fantasy come true.

One doesn’t normally equate South America with fine, aged cheeses (basic, young cheeses are normally eaten on this side of the equator), and I must confess that surf and mountains were what drew me to Ecuador for a 5-week trip; but ever since I read an article about a 16-century hacienda - or estate - in the northern sierra that was making mature European-style cheeses, I put it on my wish list of places to check out on my travels. What attracted me to the hacienda was not only its small, careful production of cheese in an unlikely and remote place, but also its stunning location in the Andes.

Hacienda Zuleta, also an exclusive and luxurious ecolodge since 1995, doesn’t normally take day visitors; but for me they generously made an exception given my work experience at Sickles. On a Monday morning I left my modest hostal in the market town of Otavalo and took a local bus to Ibarra, the provincial capital, and then a taxi along ascending, bumpy dirt roads to a magical spot tucked into the verdant, slopping mountains. With the help of my taxi driver, I found the office of the small fabrica de queso, or cheese factory, and expressed in my very basic Spanish that I had an appointment for a tour. A phone call was made, and soon Fernardo Polanco Plazo, the general manager, entered the light-filled office.

Looking distinguished in his pressed jeans and button-down shirt, Fernado is more than the general manager; he’s the grandson of Galo Plaza Lasso, the former president of Ecuador (1948-1952). The Lasso family bought the 4,000-acre working dairy farm in 1898. At that time, there was evidence of cheese production at the hacienda, but not until 1952 did the hacienda focus on aged cheeses. The catalyst was a state visit by President Galo to Argenetina when he meet the Swiss cheesemaker Don Oskar Purtschert. Lasso encouraged Purtschert, who was looking for a way to return to Ecuador, where he had spent some time, to come make European cheeses. He did, and the rest is history.

After Fernarndo dashed off for a meeting in Quito, the dairy manager took me on a tour of the immaculate cheese factory. I was very impressed with its attention to hygiene; you don’t always see strict systems in place at small factories. The tour went backwards from the aging rooms, where multiple rounds of cheese in various sizes dipped in colored wax waited to leave the dairy, to the maturing rooms where cheeses rest on wooden shelves until they are deemed ready to be dipped in wax and sold, to the production room where rich, local milk is transformed into eleven different types of cheeses, and finally to the spot just outside the dairy where some 5,400 gallons of milk are pumped into the factory. The hacienda has almost 300 dairy cows, but since the fat content of their milk is not quite right for cheesemaking, they sell the milk to Nestle and use the milk of grass-fed cows from neighboring farms. This milk produces cheeses like Danbo, which have European origins, and Pategras, which call South America home. Fernando has plans to expand his already-impressive operations and move toward organic cheeses. I think this is a great idea given the high quality of grass that the cows are eating.

After the tour, I had a half an hour or so to wander the grounds of the hacienda until lunch, a gourmet affair of pink-flesh trout from the farm and soup and salad prepared with organic vegetables from the garden. The rustic majesty of the farmhouse seduced me: a low, whitewashed building with a red-tiled roof, surrounded by a stone colonnade, decorated with blue pots of geraniums, opening onto a vast cobblestone courtyard with a large stone cross in the middle. This must have been what an ancient Roman villa in the countryside was like (minus the cross, plus some mosaics), or a well-endowed medieval monastery with a quiet cloister. In the salon, decorated with family heirlooms and photographs, I sipped fresh watermelon juice by the fire (Zuleta is only a few degrees north of the equator, but the high altitude makes for very cool temperatures) until I was called into lunch, set in a formal, family-sized dining room.

At last, it was time to try the cheeses! Two wooden boards of cheeses were set out for me, one with the semimature cheeses and the other with the special aged Don Galo, named for Fernando’s grandfather. The extra-aged Don Galo was delicious, like a sweet, hard Gouda, with the appealing texture of calcium crystals. The younger cheeses didn’t impress me as much, which is a shame because they are made with such high-quality milk. I suspect that dipping the cheeses in wax and then sealing them in plastic leads to a slightly moist and gummy cheeses. It would be so much better to allow them to form natural rinds and dry out a bit, but I also appreciate how hard it is to sell boutique cheeses like these in Ecuador, where there isn’t a thriving market for them. Dipping them in wax allows them to be shipped and marketed more easily in supermarkets. This is the compromise you need to make to get your boutique cheeses sold.

Already my day was an absolute delight, a dream come true, but the highlight was yet to come: a two-hour ride on Zuleta’s uniquely bred horses, Zuleteños, through a stunning valley to be awed by immense condors and ancient Incan mounds. Maybe one day I’ll be able to stay multiple days at the enchanting hacienda but I am more than content with my single day there and with the hospitality, food, and activities of historical Hacienda Zuleta.

Cheers!

Diana

Bicerin: A warming drink for winter



Bicerin at Eataly

 Six years ago, during the winter Olympics in Torino (or Turin), an intriguing article appeared in the New York Times, written by Dana Bowen, an acquaintance of mine who’s now the executive editor of Saveur magazine. An expert on Italian food, Bowen beguilingly described a hot drink that’s unique to Torino, the bicerin.

The espresso-based drink caught my attention, not only because it sounded decadently delicious, especially in the depths of winter, but also because I had never heard of it. I pride myself on knowing quite a bit about the regional food and drink of Italy, having lived in Rome for over a year and traveled all around the country, from Sicily to Lake Como, but the bicerin was news to me.


Meaning “small glass,” a bicerin packs giant flavors in a diminutive glass cup. In distinct layers, starting from the bottom, are bitter espresso, melted dark chocolate, and ice-cold heavy cream. It’s meant to be drunk as is, without stirring, to savor each sumptuous strata.


I was intrigued. But I was also deprived. Since the bicerin is such a regional beverage, it hadn’t made itself known outside of northern Italy. At the time of Bowen’s article, only one known place in the U.S., in Washington, D.C., offered the chocolate-y potion. This meant that the only options were to travel to Torino or to make it at home.




Hot Chocolate at
City Bakery


With solid intentions to make it, I cut out the recipe, but the drink went unprepared for six years. I was especially ashamed by my negligence when I learned that a friend of mine in San Francisco had also seen the recipe, but unlike me, she and her husband found the will to make it. My bicerin, however, was a thing of imagination.


Finally, it became a reality. On one of my first trips to Eataly in New York City, the enormous food emporium in the Flatiron, on par with the size of a shopping mall, that is totally dedicated to the comestibles of Italy, I saw that bicerin was on the menu at the cafe, right off the Fifth Avenue entrance. It cost $4, but I had to order one.


Six years was worth the wait. What struck me was the initial, surprising hit of the rich, cold cream, followed by the warm thick, sweet chocolate, that was then chased by the bitter briskness of the espresso. I was hooked. Now I can’t pass by Eataly without stopping in to have one.




Pretzel Croissants
at City Bakery


The bicern at Eatly has now surpassed my previously favorite potable treat of winter, one that I allowed myself once per year: the hot chocolate at City Bakery in Manhattan, almost pudding-like in its thickness, accompanied by a salted pretzel croissant sprinkled with sesame seeds. Both items are so rich that I feel almost queasy by the end of my annual snack, but while consuming them, I savor their edible ying and yang--the sweetness of the hot chocolate and the saltiness of the croissant.


The bicerin offers these contrasting flavors in one small glass and for that it wins.


If you aren’t going to Torino or Eatly anytime soon, try making the bicerin at home. Sickles offers high-quality coffee and dark chocolate that are perfect for a homemade bicerin. Instead of the cream, try Ronnybrook’s whole milk to bring this drink closer to home.


Cin cin!


Diana Pittet, the hot chocolate-loving cheesemonger

Immersed in Olive Oil

When my son, Cameron, was still in grade school, he used to puzzle the mothers of his buddies whenever he was invited over to play. I would frequently hear from one mom or another that Cameron had a rather unusual request at snack time. While other kids were clamoring for milk and cookies, my son would ever so politely ask for bread and olive oil. He preferred not just any olive oil: Extra Virgin Olive Oil, and the higher the quality the better. Sometimes we would stop by Williams & Sonoma and taste the selection of olive oils set out in little dishes on the counter. Cameron always zeroed in on the most intense, flavorful, and usually most expensive option. One may wonder if there really is that much difference between the olive oils out there on the market. What is really in the bottle? Is it worth paying more money for the so-called Super Premium Extra Virgin Olive Oils? Quite recently I had the chance to find out.

On a frosty cold January morning, I set out along the gravel path that led from my accommodations in St. Helena, in the heart of California’s wine country, skirting rows of neatly trimmed vineyards on my way to the world renowned Culinary Institute of America. I arrived at Greystone, gaping in awe at the imposing castle-like edifice that houses the CIA, once the Christian Brothers winery. I grabbed my badge and a cup of coffee and settled into a seat in the spacious amphitheater with over one hundred other retailers, wholesalers and foodservice professionals for a seminar entitled: “Olive Oil Flavor & Quality.”

Ten hours, thirty speakers, and twenty olive oils later, I emerged tired and almost saturated with olive oil but enlightened from this fascinating course presented by the CIA and the UC Davis Olive Oil Center, in collaboration with the National Association for the Specialty Food Trade (NASFT). I learned that yes, beyond a shadow of a doubt, there are vast differences between olive oils on the market today, and that much of the oil being bottled, labeled, and sold as Extra Virgin Olive Oil (or EVOO) is actually adulterated or mislabeled in some way.  Some of it is even old or rancid. Tom Mueller, an expert in the area of olive oil fraud and author of the book Extra Virginity: The Sublime and Scandalous World of Olive Oil, explains that this precious commodity, once the symbol of purity, has become a deeply corrupt industry in the face of today's lax protections. Cheating is commonplace; lower grade oils are mixed in with EVOO’s, color is added to enhance the look of the oil, or old olives from the ground are used instead of fresh, just -picked olives.

We had the opportunity to experience first hand the differences between fresh, fusty and rancid extra virgin olive oils. The term “fusty” is used to describe oil made from olives that have been stored in bags too long and have started the fermentation process. Tasting a number of fusty and rancid oils was actually quite valuable because I can more easily recognize a culprit. Since olive oil is such a perishable commodity susceptible to light, heat, and oxygen, there is a good chance that you will find rancid oil served unknowingly at even the finest restaurants. To make sure that only the freshest, purest oils are available to their customers, many retail stores and restaurants are beginning to check their supplies more often for freshness and are even sending samples to testing facilities to verify that the oil is 100% extra virgin. In order to be considered a true EVOO, the oil must meet specific criteria, such having a free acidity (oleic acid) of no more than .8% and being without sensory defect. The Super Premium EVOO’s are in another class altogether. These high-end premium oils generally have no more than a .3% free fatty acid level and have excellent sensory attributes of taste and aroma.

Tasting the fresh Super-Premium oils was much more enjoyable. We sampled products from several different countries including Italy, Spain, and Greece as well as local oils from California. When we sipped and inhaled the “novello” or new harvest oils from the first olives of the season, one presenter commented that it sounded like a flu clinic in the amphitheater: coughing and sputtering everywhere from the pepper sensation in our throats! After drizzling the same oil on a winter salad however, the grassiness and pepper of the fresh young oil melded with the greens and parmesan perfectly, creating a balanced combination. During our breaks we continued to experience the Super Premiums liberally applied to every kind of food imaginable: avocados and orange marmalade on toast, almond gazpacho with grapes, grilled dry aged Five Dot Ranch beef, and even chocolate olive-oil mousse!

One of the highlights of the day for me was a presentation by Paul Bartolotta, the Chef of BARTOLOTTA, Ristorante di Mare at the Wynn Las Vegas. He demonstrated several techniques for preparing seafood and how to use olive oil as a supporting role in cuisine. He selected a delicate Super Premium Ligurian olive oil rather than a peppery “novello.” Later, at lunchtime, he served us his creations, including a whole fish cooked in an aromatic sea salt crust. I was also delighted to view a slide presentation by Nancy Harmon Jenkins and came home with her latest cookbook: The New Mediterranean Diet Cookbook: A Delicious Alternative for Lifelong Health, a volume filled with heart- healthy olive oil-based recipes.

By the end of the day, I had tasted twenty different olive oils, from the mediocre to the finest in the world. I left Greystone that evening practically glistening but more informed about extra virgin olive oils and why the best ones are worth the investment. Now I am putting olive oil on practically everything. It adds flavor, health and richness to almost every dish. No wonder Cameron went for the bread and oil at snack time!

~ Cheri Scolari