Middle School Food Critic

What makes a great restaurant great? Is it the food, atmosphere, service, decor or the company I’m with? The answer is all of these things mushed into a vat of passion bubbling inside of me.

Firstcomes the food; tasty, delicious and sexy food adds the most important feature to a restaurant’s greatness, igniting a spark in my stomach. Food that takes my breath away and compels even my worst moods to become cheery and sociable. Like a dish I once ate at Le Bernadin, ‘a sour zucchini flower, sweet crab and a woody essence of truffle sauce. Each flavor was a puzzle piece and when they fit together they became a clear picture. It was like flowers, deep within a forest of trees, and sweet smells.’

Secondly, an atmosphere and decor need to match the style of the food to push my restaurant experience to an even greater level of pleasure. I like an atmosphere that welcomes me, the diner, invites me into the flow of amiable conversation. As well as a decor that flirts with the atmosphere, contrasts and works together with it. For example when homey, whole hearted dishes are served in a cute warm restaurant it makes me feel in place, part of something.

When these two ingredients are combined with superb service, the memory of a night out can be imbedded in my mind for weeks. A server who treats me politely can make me feel royal and special. A server should also be conversational and fun. This is the kind of server that makes an okay night out into a night of everlasting laughs and ‘waiter I’d like another, now!’

At last, having friends and family with me completes my experience. Sure you can dine alone, but it adds tremendously to the evening when friends and family are involved. For me, being able to socialize while I eat and drink is a crucial part of my dining experience. Alas, when these ‘elements’ are combined the spark in my stomach becomes a warm fire, fueled by delicious foods, cordial and humble service, friends, family and an overall sublime dining experience.

Posted in Other Food

Wine Grapes

Slipping on my pants and shoes quietly so as not to wake up the others, I was excited. I snuck out to the grape vines and began my walk. The overwhelming smell of sweetness and wine was delicious. Along the way I stopped, of course, to eat the violet grapes that swelled on the vines. My first impression was sweetness, then sour, as I bit into the skin. Sweet sticky juice ran down my chin as I finished a bunch. After completing my march down the hillside of vineyards I hiked back up to the 5 star hotel, Il Boscareto, where we were staying for a few days. My head swam with thoughts of the hunt to come later that morning- for the famous White Truffles of Alba!

Truffle Hunt

We drove across narrow roads with row after row of vineyards on both sides. The yellow and green colored leaves on the vines were unbelievable. It was a valley of colors spread out over miles. We pulled into an old stone driveway where our trifulau (truffle hunter) greets us with a wide grin on his face. Of course he speaks not one word of English, so lucky for us we brought along our wonderful Italian guide (and now good friend) Daniela, to help us. We hop into his Jeep and drive aggressively into the woods. Once we reach a particularly hidden trail he lets Jolie out. Jolie, the trifulau’s dog, is six years old and has been trained since she was 6 months old for this very moment. The dog began to dart back and forth with her nose down. She trotted up and down the trail while our trifulau prepared for the hunt. Of course, I’m wearing fancy shoes and jeans instead of dirty pants and a shirt, but he assures me it will do. He pulls out hand-crafted walking sticks and hands them to us without a word. It was self-explanatory; we would be doing extensive hiking.

Jolie Truffle Dog

The hunt began quietly as our trifulau whispered short commands to Jolie.

Jolie was always on the lookout for encouragement such as a,” bravo Jolie!” After 45 minutes of no success, we came upon our first truffle! The minute before, Jolie had stopped and sniffed for longer then usual, causing excitement throughout our group. It had turned out to be nothing. Jolie was trotting around as usual when she just stopped. At first it was nothing, and then she began to dig with a glint in her eyes. The trifulau was yelling at Jolie from a distance, but there was no stopping Jolie. By the time we got to her the truffle had almost entirely emerged under Jolie’s careful digging. Jolie’s master was very careful not to offend Jolie by giving more attention to the truffle then to her. It was intriguing to watch how he completely ignored the jewel lying before his eyes

Simple Truffled Pasta

and concentrated on Jolie and her welfare. Once Jolie was calm he set out digging for the white truffle himself. He latched his ax into the soil and tugged slowly and carefully. As more dirt poured away, a garlicky, dreamy smell arose from the small hole. Then it hit us. With full blast the perfume blew us all away into an everlasting silence broken by Jolie’s squealing and her own attempts to reach the golden truffle. I put out my hand in the ground slowly, and with extreme caution brought out a medium sized truffle. We were thrilled and so was the trifulau. The hunt concluded with our finding two truffles, one weighing 52 grams, and one weighing 23 grams. These truffles were to be used in the meal we had after we got back to the inn/restaurant. As we stepped into the restaurant, which smelled throughout like truffles, our trifulau was applauded by his guests. He went to change as his new role was as host of the delicious meal prepared for us by his wife and proudly served by both of them.

2 Truffles

© 2009 David Fishman

Posted in Other Food

It was a warm, clear, breezy end of summer night, with the smell of ocean in the air, on the coast of Long Island. It was decided, by my cousin and I, that the time had come. Guests were hungry, and the ingredients were sitting there on the kitchen island waiting ready to be used.  I thought of Rosa Mexicano, a popular Mexican restaurant based in New York City, where I had recently dined.  The restaurant has a unique activity performed in front of the diners. There is a table side  cart piled high with chopped tomatoes, white onions, cilantro and jalapino peppers. Oh yeah, I almost forgot the last ingredient:  Avocados. Can you guess what the ingeridants made? Guacamole.

Our plan tonight was to satisfy our hungry guests by making a custom our version of the traditional Mexican dish, Guacamole. I split up the tasks. Tomatoes were assigned to my cousin. Onions to my aunt. The tomatoes had been carefully picked out at a local farm stand (one of many in Long Island) by myself. I picked the cilantro among, many other herbs like parsley and basil, in our backyard garden. The avocados were trickier to find than the other ingredients. After trying 3 supermarkets with expensive unripened avocados we went to a local Spanish take-out place. Scanning the store with our eyes we finally spotted a mesh basket holding three green ripe avocados. Luck seemed to be on our side. Back home, with all the ingredients gathered we started the process of creating the guacamole.

If you follow the technigue used at Like at Rosa Mexicano, the cilantro must be made into a paste. In the restaurant, the cilantro was chopped into microscopic pieces,  then scraped into a stone bowl. A heavy looking, black stone mallet, was used taken from the cart. (I found out later it is called a mortar and pestle)The waiter pounded the cilantro into a pasty substance so it would easily blend into the guacamole. I didn’t have a stone mallet so I placed my cilantro on a chopping board and took a large rock from outside. After cleaning the rock carefully I began to pound the cilantro into a mush much like the one at Rosa Mexicano. Once the paste had been completed it was scooped into a large bowl. Next comes the avocados.

From the Rosa Mexicano waiters, I had learned  how to de-pit an avocado in a stylish clean way. Take a sharp knife and slit a circle around the avocado. Once the circle is completed slowly pull each half of the avocado off the pit. One side should be pit free, but the other still requires de-pitting. Stab your knife into the pit and slowly twist the pit until it’s free of the avocado. Keep the fruit in the skin and glide your knife in small criss crosses around the interior of the avocado. This should make it easier to take the fruit out and mush it. My cousin kept adding more salt (which the quacamole needed) when our backs were turned. With chips in another bowl, we called the other guests and headed outside to the back deck, overlooking the ocean- where the sun had not yet set. With drinks in hand, we shared a delicious guacamole experience. From the rock smashed bitter tasting cilantro , to the farm stand sweet tomatoes and spicy onions, and, of course, the Spanish market avocados,  we shared our own customized guacamole dish. Have fun and try combining different ingredients yourself to get a different taste. For example, I used to use parsley instead of cilantro. The flavor is completely different. The parsley was extremely bitter and absorbed the sweet flavor of the avocado. This time the cilantro complimented the avocado and was only a side flavor instead of taking some the attention like the parsley did. I still like to add lemon. Next time!  I’m ready now to start mashing… or, with summer over and I’m back at school, it may be time to head over to Rosa Mexicano  and watch the waiters do all the work (though to me it would still be more fun to make it myself, with a little help from my friends).

Rosa Mexicano (New York City)-

-Lincoln Center

-Union Square

-First Avenue

Posted in Other Food