publican prowess

When you only have one night to dine in Chicago, the decision can be impossible. Blow-out gastronomical tasting at Alinea? Too intense. Hit the bar at fully-booked Girl and the Goat and hope for space? Too iffy. Take a beer- and pork-afficionado friend to beer-and-pork mecca The Publican? We have a winner.

The restaurant is loud and bustling, with communal tables running the length of it, along with semi-private four-top booths along the windows. Don't let the tables put you off, though; it's not really much different from dining in any restaurant where the tables along the banquette are very close together, and for the most part the close quarters with one's neighbors remain minimally intrusive.

I know I'm in the right place when my server, upon explaining the menu, notes, "We understand not everything cooks at the same rate, so we encourage you to order everything together, and we'll course it out for you." Too often, restaurants that don't follow a traditional service (one appetizer and one main course per person) bring dishes haphazardly. It shows great attention to the dining experience when a restaurant plans to pace the meal despite a nontraditional set-up -- small snacks, appetizers, medium-sized plates one might share or not, and family-style entrees all make an appearance on Publican's menu.

And oh, what a menu. The Publican is known, as mentioned above, for beer and pork, although it goes far beyond that: seafood, including a nicely-sourced raw bar, and vegetables from local farmers all are well represented. In fact, just about everything on the menu lists its provenance; you know what brewery, what farm, what butcher was responsible for everything in your glass or on your plate. One of the things I enjoyed, though, is that the nose-to-tail ethic at work isn't forced upon the diner. Read the blurb, think about it, or don't think about it and just enjoy your food.

My dining companion enjoyed the Monk's Café Flemish Sour Red Ale ($6), which the server accurately described as more sweet-and-sour than traditionally sour. He easily suggested alternatives for someone looking for a less unusual beer, but the Monk's was a welcome change from the expected. The next beer, the Brauerei Heller-Trum ($10), seemed to complement the multiple courses we enjoyed.

(I stuck to a very drinkable Argentinian sustainable pinot noir for $12. So sue me.)

Then, the food. Oh, my. There's a reason I had a salad for lunch before showing up to dinner.

daily pickles ($4): superbly pickled cauliflower, cucumber pickles that were just shy of being sweet enough to register as bread-and-butter, and pickled onions and beets (I think). A couple plates of these with a beer and some oysters in the bar would make a perfect light night out.

spicy pork rinds ($5): a huge cone of ethereally fried bites, coated with a spicy, cheesy dust, these were ridiculously addictive, the heat level building just gradually enough to keep me coming back for more even though I knew I had to pace myself.

serrano; half taste of ham ($14): some of the most flavorful and richest serrano I've ever tasted, with excellent country bread and slightly-too-cold butter.

frites ($5): my only quibble with these is that I wanted them to arrive with the next course; luckily, it came shortly after they did. My desert-island food is excellent French fries, and these fit the bill; double-fried to be crispy but thick enough to retain a creamy, potato-y middle, and salted just enough, with Belgian mayonnaise, I could have eaten the entire cone (and may have had more than my fair share, I'm sure).

spicy steak tartare, radishes, fennel & lovage ($17): the radish and fennel set of the perfectly spiced meat; a few bits of meltingly tender (and yes, raw) beef followed by a couple of crispy frites was perhaps my favorite combination of dishes of the evening.

squid, broccoli, peanuts & apricot-chili vinaigrette ($15): my dining companion doesn't enjoy seafood, so I had this all to myself, and what a dish to get to savor alone! The squid, roasted in an earthenware dish, was tender yet hearty, and incredibly flavorful; the broccoli acquired the nuttiness of the roast, set off deliciously by the peanuts and the sweet-spicy sauce.

country ribs, maitake mushrooms & kohlrabi, half order ($15): grilled to create an exceptional crust and yet not tough inside, with the meatiness of the maitake highlighting just how satisfying at an almost primal level this dish can be, this dish was almost too rich (and definitely too much) at the end of the meal, but well worth the indulgence.

chocolate-banana budino with coffee gelato & cocoa nibs ($7): did we need dessert? No. Was this outstanding? Caramelized bananas with a rich, dark-but-not-too-dark chocolate pudding, set off by the bitter cocoa nibs and the essence of coffee in the creamy gelato? Oh, yes.

Heading out into the light drizzle, I was seriously tempted to turn around, head back to the bar, and nurse a drink while watching what else came of the clearly talented kitchen. Chicago has a vibrant dining scene, and there are many more restaurants I need to get to, but it will be darn hard not to come back here each time, for a small plate, a drink, and, well, maybe just one or two other little tastes ...

rustica as rustic does

After three trips to Pizzeria Rustica in Old Colorado City, I know that the "ricotta surprise" in the eponymous pizza is that the ricotta is hidden in the crust. Scoop it out and scatter it over the crushed San Marzano tomatoes, homemade mozzarella, paper-thin prosciutto, and peppery arugula, and you have a dish that will rival the best Neapolitan pizze in the D.C. area.

The large antipasto platter is perfect to share, coming with ample amounts of that same prosciutto, a black-pepper salume, bite-sized pieces of polenta cake, marinated olives, roasted and marinated tomatoes, and assorted other vegetable salads (last night, pickled cauliflower with capers and carrots) and cheeses (usually pecorino and something vaguely cheddar-like). The wine list specializes in organically-grown Italian imports, and while a favorite nero d'avola was out last night, there was a nice sangiovese to take its place.

And no, I absolutely did not want the freaking delicious homemade espresso gelato with chocolate chips and biscotti crumbs, and I vastly resent being forced to share that, too. 

duo ... do want

"So, this would be pretty good for DC, yeah?" asked my friend.
"Hell, this would be pretty good -- no, really good -- anywhere," I replied, and I meant it.

If you find yourself in Denver on a Sunday morning and don't have brunch at Duo, you're missing out. This little restaurant with exposed brick walls and funky mismatched napkins focuses on farm-to-table fare, and does it with aplomb and creativity. The sweet sunday poached eggs on grilled sourdough bread + spinach, mushrooms + sweet onion ragout in a whole grain mustard cream sauce, crispy potatoes ($8) came with perfectly poached eggs; the substantial amount of nicely sautéed vegetables had great flavor, the mushrooms earthy and tender, the spinach nicely wilted and without bitterness, and the onion ragout pulling it all together with sweetness. The mustard cream sauce provided an outstanding counterpoint, a bit sharper than a traditional hollandaise (vastly appreciated in this case), and the potatoes, crisped with a bit of smoked paprika, were a great foil for soaking up the runny yolk.

One member of my party chose the pork hash house made pork sausage + kale, carmelized onion, roasted tomato, potatoes + sunnyside up eggs ($9), which he pronounced outstanding (when I could get him to weigh in, as he promptly devoured his meal). Our table also sampled the challah french toast fresh fruit compote + vermont maple syrup ($9) which came as four thick, fluffy slices dusted with powdered sugar and an abundance of fresh blackberries, along with a tiny carafe of good syrup, and the applewood bacon ($4), three strips of crispy, smoky bacon. Excellent coffee in a French press finished off the meal nicely.

With a drink, a glass of juice, and three orders of the bacon (hey, I maintain that there is no such thing as too much bacon, at least at brunch), the total for three people came to $55 before tip. If this is dining in Colorado, sign me up. 

that is one hungry mother ....

The last night in Cambridge was with my dear, dear friend Sam at Hungry Mother. Sam has lived with me a few times in the past, and is an up-and-coming young home cook and learning about drinks and food, too -- let's say a burgeoning foodie of sorts. He had gone to this restaurant recently and loved it so much he said we had to go when in town -- it's Southern comfort food done with an incredibly refined sensibiilty, and in Boston that's even rarer than it is here -- and so we checked it out.

And hoo boy, was Sam right.

Sam told me beforehand that their cocktails were fantastic, so I was looking forward to it. They number the drinks instead of naming them, but that reflects an overarching element of humor and (somehow inoffensive) cleverness to the menu (food as well as drinks; more on this to come). After the weekend I'd had -- and seeing that they recommended it as a pairing on the dessert menu -- I ordered a Sazerac ($9), which was slightly less fantastic than what I had at Temple Bar, but still made spot-on and quite delicious. Sam had the No. 43, Old Overholt Rye, 10 yr Ferreira Tawny Port, maple syrup, bitters ($9.50), but he vastly preferred the No. 2, Maker's Mark, sorghum syrup, Luxardo Amaretto, boiled peanut ($9), which Jim started with. It was perfectly balanced and possessed a great depth of flavor that was, truly, awesome.

The drinks menu also includes the No. 99, Bartender's Choice ($10). This is essentially the speakeasy element; you get as vague or as specific as you like, and the bar sends you something. Jim asked for "smoky, I like whiskey, with some citrus" and got a drink comprising mezcal, green chartreuse, Rittenhouse rye, and orange curacao -- and it was exactly what he asked for and more. The only downside is that the time it took made our second round arrive in the middle of our entrees ... but honestly, it was worth the wait.

We started with the "To Tide You Over..." order of Spicy Pimiento Cheese ($4), which was an amuse just the right size for three people. Perfectly spreadable, with a kick, it was a traditionally Southern presentation and absolutely went with the first cocktails. Next we shared the Local Lettuces, cucumbers, radishes, cherry tomatoes, mint, cornbread croutons ($9) and the Pork Plate ($10), which that night was housemade bratwurst cooked in beer, served with homemade stone-ground mustard and a beer shot. All the pork items are made in-house and they are amazing; if you did nothing but eat the pork products (guanciale, ham, bacon) I think you would walk out incredibly happy.

For our main courses, I had the Carolina Rainbow Trout, hakurei turnips & greens, sea island peas, bacon ($24). It was outstanding, with the accompaniments absolutely spot-on to add all the flavor elements (the bitter greens, the umami long-cooked peas, and the salty, crispy bacon). The fish was so perfectly cooked that I didn't want to share it, but the Veal Blanquette, carrots, potatoes, toasted bread ($23) was also so delicious that I had to keep trading bites for pieces of wonderfully tender veal in an incredibly flavorful gravy. The Cornmeal Catfish dirty rice, mustard brown butter, chow chow ($18) arrived masterfully done, crispy and flaky and seasoned with an assured hand to avoid the trap of under-flavored or over-salted fish that so often happens with catfish, in my experience.

Amazingly, we had room to try dessert. I only tasted my own, the Rhubarb Cobbler, black pepper ice cream ($8), but the reason I didn't try the others is because mine was so good -- not overly sweet, which I dislike, but allowing the pure tart rhubarb to shine through, with a traditional cobbler topping and the mild spice hit of the black pepper ice cream -- that I refused to share. I have it on good authority that the other desserts are quite good, although one of the cakes erred on the side of a bit dry, for which the housemade mint ice cream more than compensated, and the Taza Chocolate Sundae, sorghum marshmallow, black walnuts, cherry on top ($8) was raised to an ethereal level by the bruléed sorghum marshmallow ... heavenly.

This was the big blowout dinner, the "I haven't seen you in ages and we are going to tear. it. up." night on the town. We ended up back at Sam's place playing board games and drinking Kraken on the rocks after our multi-hour feast in a space that really feels like you're in the house of someone who just wants to feed you well: whitewashed brick walls, wooden floors and rustic tables, a staff who clearly cares what's going on, a kitchen bent on putting out incredible food (even on a Sunday night, which after reunion and Commencement weekend couldn't have been the biggest or most important night for them). I honestly wanted to go sit at the bar for the next three hours and just find out everything about this group, this place, that is doing what no one was doing in Cambridge when I left (except maybe Tony Maws, and funnily enough his new space is right around the corner). I am so impressed with this place .... I can't wait to go back.

temple bar the doors

I found myself starting the evening off at Temple Bar on Friday and again on Saturday. I used to love it here when I lived down the street; for the past year or so, under the leadership of Michael Scelfo, the quality and creativity have increased to the point that I'm legitimately disappointed I can't actually get here again before I leave.

The first drink I tried, A Little Taste of Cambridge Grey Goose Pears, Canton Ginger, Fresh Lemon ($10), was perfect at the end of a hot, humid day -- it had enough of the ginger kick to offset the sweetness of the drink overall. It went wonderfully with the Sesame Tuna Tartare, Togarashi Aioli, Avocado, Wakame Seaweed Salad, & House Kettle Chips ($13), nothing innovative but rather a well-executed rendition of the classic, with cubes of ruby-red tuna and silky avocado piled on the seaweed, and the chips adding a nice starchy crunch. Even better were the Espresso & Fig-Glazed "St. Louis" Ribs, Smoky Espresso Syrup, Creamy Slaw ($9), which came with five meaty ribs, the meat all but falling off the bones, and the glaze nicely balanced between bitter and sweet. The bartender recommended this dish and I was glad he did; he also made me what is thus far the best Sazerac ($8) I've ever had to accompany the dish.

We stuck to the bar and appetizer menu both nights, and the dish of the night the second night had to be the Red Wine Braised Colorado Lamb Shoulder, Crispy Fried Olives, Crostini ($9) from the appetizers. This was fantastically flavorful and, in fact, a large portion over a smoky, chunky tomato sauce, with the fried black and green olives giving a salty punch and crunch to play off the tender meat. The Blue Hill Bay Mussels, House Made Merquez Sausage, Herbed Tomato Broth, Grilled Bread ($10) showed up as a huge bowl of plump, not-too-large mussels, but the merguez was the star, seasoned forcefully but not with an overly heavy hand, and not so spicy or smoky that it overwhelmed the mussels.

I used to come to this place for a casual night out just down the street; my standbys were the calamari, the burger, the Caesar salad, and the fondue. Happily, all of these things are still on the menu, but tweaked. Having sampled the new items the chef has brought to the restaurant, I bet these are even better than they were before, and I wish I still lived close enough that I could drop in on a lazy Tuesday night when I don't feel like cooking.

mes amies, chez henri

The service in the bar at Chez Henri tonight was really off, which is a massive letdown. Yes, today was Commencement, but unless one has a particularly progressive parental relationship, the bar at Chez Henri is not where one celebrates such an event, so it wasn't due to excessive celebratory crowds. On a Thursday night, though, there's no reason there should have been only one bartender in charge of the bar and the tables, particularly when every seat was filled and they were three-deep at the bar; we waited long enough for someone to take our cards that Godot could have shown up first and we'd have been less surprised. That said, I'm still glad that I dragged my girlfriends there for our first girls' night out of Reunion weekend. They all lived in the Quad but never went to CH in college; I, on the other hand, found every excuse I could to eat in the bar there both during school and after, when I lived right up the street.

And on that front, Chez Henri did not disappoint. The Rhum Cocktail Marilene, 8 Year Old Haitian Rum, Muddled Lime & Angostura Bitters Shaken & Served on Ice (all cocktails $9) is new since I was last there (in...2006? 2007? Eep) and a fantastic way to start the evening (especially since yesterday's CF of a workday and nine-hour drive did not end with a drink). The Periodista, Triple Sec, Apricot Brandy, Rum, Lime Juice, Shaken and Served with a Twist of Lime also stood the test of time. After that, the girls and I moved to a bottle of rosé on special, and were more than well served. (In fact, one of our foursome arrived late, having had to wait for her babysitter (read: husband) to get home, and when her water didn't arrive in a timely fashion, was comped her glass of wine, totally unnecessarily -- it was a grand gesture.)

We also managed to sample the Chicken Empanadas ($7) and Vegetable Pinchos ($8) to start. The pinchos were skewers of grilled okra, red onion, red bell pepper, mushroom, and squash, with a dressing halfway between crema and tzatziki -- and were delicious (thank goodness for the okra, which I love). The empanadas are three small, but perfectly executed, examples to a plate, with a mango-black bean salsa and a salsa fresca to accompany. I had to have my truly beloved Duck Tamale on Spinach Salad, Warm Bacon and Mustard Dressing ($11). This is one of my favorite dishes of all time -- actually the first dish I ate when I last returned from France, because nothing else would bridge the gap from the food in Paris to back home in Portland, ME, at the time. Big chunks of crispy/fatty bacon and a spicy dressing set off the confit of duck packed into the soft masa ... OK, I kind of want to go back and have it again tomorrow. The Grilled Homemade Chorizo over scallion mashed potato ($8) was another star of the evening. I'm kind of just sad we didn't make it to the conch fritters.

Yes, we were crammed into the door corner all night long and the service was ridiculously off-kilter (we easily would have gotten another round if anyone had asked instead of just dropping our check after clearing our plates, and we had to ask several times for forks for our main course rounds after the first ones were cleared with the apps), but I will come back to Chez Henri for their drinks and that freaking amazing duck tamale as long as I'm able to visit Harvard Square ... and I hope that will be for a good, long time.

the world's most boring travel blog post

I have three trips coming up in the next ten months and I'm trying to figure out the best approach to booking travel. Yeah, this is how I spend glorious early spring Sundays. Shut up.

Memorial Day weekend: DC to Boston for my college reunion. (Also: hello, Internet! Now you sort of know how old I am!)

Fourth of July weekend: DC to Ann Arbor for a wedding.

Weekend of November 13th: DC to Sonoma County, CA, for a wedding.

Details: I can take some extra vacation days around the first to see friends and family. The last might also be extended for some vacationing in California wine country. The middle one will be an up-and-back.

Resources: One round trip ticket available via miles on US Air. One 2008 Mazda 3i five-door. Lots of luggage.

Obstacles: Vile and deep-seated loathing for the process of scheduling travel.

I realize that sounds a bit vitriolic, but have you tried to book a flight these days? There is no such thing as the lowest fare, and if you manage to find an airplane leaving your desired airport at a time when normal humans are actually awake and available to travel, then more power to you.

All of my options come up as leaving at dark-thirty in the morning, or with a layover lasting the length of an elephant's gestational period, which at least is somewhat convenient in that you can just sleep in the terminal and give up on booking a nice hotel.

I'm thinking it makes the most sense to use the miles trip for the California journey, as those tickets are the most expensive (and that trip will also require a rental car). Of course, it's also the trip least likely to be available on that particular airline.

Whereas USAir flies to Boston approximately every forty-eight seconds here, so it would be super-easy to use the miles on that trip. Still, the Boston trip is the only one that could conceivably be done via car. If so, then in at least one direction it will be just me, and while I don't mind that drive, I can think of better ways to spend eight hours at a stretch. And the one-way plane fare to get my ride-share up to Boston is almost as expensive as a round-trip (awesome!) in the first place.

The easiest option is just to suck it up, book all three trips, and be done with it, but of course that feels like a cop-out. What if fares go down? What if fares go up? What if we get to keep our shoes on but have to fly naked? Honestly, if we can achieve this, why can't we dematerialize and reconstruct our atoms in a new place?

The fallout of all of this is that I just don't want to travel anymore and my brain is looking for new and creative ways to avoid it. Yes, that's right; instead of just forking over some cash to the airlines, my brain is going, "What if you tried to hitchhike/bike/run across the country for charity instead?" or "Surely you're developing viral encephalitis and won't be able to go." This is a ridiculous statement for many very obvious reasons, not least if which is that travel is one of my few major passions; there's no way I should be so willing to chuck it all and hole up in my house instead. It's just such a pain to try to get it all squared away.

I think it'd be easier to go back for that advanced degree in physics and build the damn transporter.