Sweet as Sinema

There is always a charm in nostalgia. Taking a look into the past, we can gain perspective on what we’ve gained, and what we have left behind. As we move forward, remnants of that past are often caught up in the wake. But sometimes, we preserve those momentos. In some cases, we recycle, reuse, and repurpose them, changing them, using their memory-laden mystique. Sinema did just that.

An old movie theater, the original neon sign still illuminates the parking lot. Marquees that used to hold movie posters, now show menus. Stepping inside, the original architecture is obvious. A curving stairway rides up the wall, newly carpeted, still elegant in its copper and brass. Old movies play on a huge projection screen at the top. Lounge chairs scatter the front bar, and taking the stairs, the upstairs bar is already rowdy with people. The upstairs bar has a “concessions” menu all its own, with snacks like corn nuts and house fries. But the true art is in their entrees.

We begin out meal with a tartine. The “hot shrimp” is served with a spiced butternut goat cheese and a chili aioli. The juicy shrimp, coated in a sauce not dissimilar from buffalo, sat atop crisp bread. The cheese cooled off the spice from the chili aioli. Our other appetizer, the foie gras, was whipped to a mousse consistency, specked with shaved truffle, and plated as a cannel instead of a brick. Paired with a sweet zucchini bread and curry cashew butter. The plate also had a floret of pear and micro greens. It was beautiful, rich, and sweet, I could have made it a dessert. The truffle was mild, and each part of the dish was delicious on its own, yet more so as flavors were combined.

We ordered two fish entrees, the halibut and barramundi, both fish I don’t usually find at my monger. Salsify, a root vegetable similar to parsnips but sweeter, was pureed with butter and cream and was splayed across the plate with a verjus vinaigrette, white and purple waves acting as a backdrop to a savoy cabbage slaw and marinated grapes. On top of all of this was the halibut, golden brown on the top, soft white flesh, yielding to the fork.

By contrast, the barramundi was a hardier stew. White beans, lamb sausage, and fingerling potatoes swam in a thin tomato broth flavored with Herbsaint (an anise-flavored liquor made by the Sazerac company). Seared skin-on, the barramundi was crisped on top, giving way to another soft-fleshed fish that was lightly sweet and very fresh.

We shared a dessert, recently added to the menu. It was like a string quartet, first violin was a pear, poached in red wine, tinting the lightly colored fruit. The submersion was delicate, as the fruit maintained its texture and firmness. A moist almond cake played second fiddle, and the crunchy cello was covered by toasted almond slivers. Adding a fourth layer of flavor and texture, a whipped goat cheese was slightly tart and smooth, almost like a thick frosting for the cake, cementing the pear in place.

I want to emphasize how artfully each plate was poised. My cell phone camera (and camera skills) don’t do the composition justice. Sinema is slightly outside of the downtown area, but it is certainly worth the trip. Thanks for sharing it with me.

Mood Lighting and Seafood

After a week of hard work, it was a pleasure to take the newly trained supervisors to a nice meal. My reputation for being a foodie preceded me, so expectations of my restaurant selection were high. I chose ARA, a restaurant in the Royal Sonesta Hotel, somewhere none of us had been before.

Parking can be a bit of a hassle, but the restaurant validates, so at least it’s free. Tucked into the corner of the lobby, the mood-lit ARA offered a quiet and serene dining room. On one wall, bottles of wine stood at the ready, including a large ice bin for keeping the whites and roses chilled.

I was excited to learn my dining partners were as excited to share and sample as I was. Having perused the menu, we already knew that seafood was going to constitute the predominance of our meal, so we started with a bottle of sauvignon blanc. Slightly fruity yet dry, it went quite well with the bisque of scallop, and shrimp. The seafood was artfully placed into a tear-shaped bowl, then the bisque poured around it tableside. Bright orange and velvety, yet not overwhelmingly rich to overpower the crustaceans, we had to deny the server taking it away until we had unapologetically wiped the bowl clean with bread.

ARA is known for their butcher block steaks, and that same meat was dried to a jerky, chopped fine, and topped seared scallops. The scallops were soft and buttery, the jerky adding a chewy texture and a smoky component. The scallops sat atop a disk of green wheat freekeh, giving the starter a hardier feel.

We continued our barrage of seafood with Cobia, an Atlantic sea fish whose meat is light and airy. Skin removed, it had just enough browning on the top and bottom to seal in the moisture. Fresh, a delicate brine flavor came through with no fishy taste or smell. The cobia perched atop a roasted poblano pepper, stuffed to bursting with Aztec rice. An orange saffron sauce dotted the dish, adding both sweetness and citrus.

The menu states that the Scottish salmon comes with tamarind sauce, a combination I’ve never had. Intrigued, we ordered it. The sauce was thick, almost like a preserve, and was generously smeared across the top, then dolloped with almonds. The bowl in which it was served also had a red lentil curry, pureed to smoothness. The Indian flavors paired well with the salmon, while not overpowering the palate to the other dishes.

The sweet tooth in our party not yet satisfied, we ordered desserts. A trio of unique ice creams came to our table. Beer, made with what I assumed was a porter, as the ice cream was a dark brown, had cacao notes, and a slightly bitter finish. Goat cheese and sun dried tomato, the goat cheese adding a firmer texture and a slight buttermilk-esque twang to the ice cream, the sun dried tomato tasting sweet in comparison. Strawberry balsamic, again, a sweet sour combination, small chunks of strawberry adding a soft element to the smooth ice cream

Thank you Houston team for a great rollout week, and amazing dining company. I look forward to my next trip!

Eurotrip Part 4 – “So I suppose that means you have a Swiss bank account”

After a long, five hour train ride, I finally arrive in Zurich, my last stop on my trip. At every hostel I visit, the usual conversation starter is a standard series of questions: What’s your name? Where are you from? What do you do? Where have you been? Where are you going? When I mentioned Zurich as part of my answer to the last question, I got the same response from everyone: “It’s clean, it’s beautiful, you’ll love it, but it’s really expensive.”

Switzerland is part of the EU, but not in the Eurozone. They have their own currency, the Swiss Franc, which is roughly the same value as a USD. While some things are on par with American prices (like cheese and beer from a grocery store) and some things are even cheaper (The local bicycles can be rented from 9am-9:30pm every day for nothing but your license information and 20 Franc note which you get back when you return the bike) most things cost noticeably more. You can’t find a restaurant meal for anything less than 20 franc, and that’s the vegetarian noodle option. Mangos cost the equivalent of $6 in the grocery store and the famed Swiss chocolates can go for about $4/100grams. Want a refrigerator magnet as a souvenir? That’s $6.

Prices aside, the other three parts of commentary on Zurich were also accurate. Streets were clear of both trash and vagrants. The Swiss Alps loomed in the distance and a large lake pierced the center of the city. I took advantage of the free bikes and explored. The Bahnhofstrasse is to Zurich as the Chans Alysses is to Paris, luxury stores and layered shopping malls lining both sides of the street. Local trams zig zagged every street, making getting around convenient (if you can read/speak Swiss German).

As ever, one of my first stops was a grocery store. I had the legendary Swiss cheese and chocolate in mind, and was not disappointed on either count. For chocolate, most stores had an entire aisle dedicated to bars, truffles, candies, of all sizes, shapes, and levels of cocoa. Lindt made a frequent appearance. No surprise, one of their factories is located just outside the city. In contrast to Belgium, the Swiss seem to focus more on the bars of chocolate rather than pralines and chocolate covered goodies. I found Swiss chocolate to be darker, firmer, and more complex in flavor, and the Belgian chocolate to be smoother, creamier, and of a more luxurious texture. I say this with full knowledge that I sampled only a small sliver of what each country had to offer.

As to the cheese, of course gruyere, emmentaller, what we know as “swiss” made appearances.  Fondue restaurants were a frequent site, most touting a blend of cheeses in which bread could be submerged. Another cheese, raclette, was both a cheese and the dish which uses it. The cheese, raclette, is melted to the point of brown bubbliness, and poured over vegetables, potatoes, and the like to create a dish, also named raclette. The cheeses here were of a medium body and funk, offering nuttiness and herbaceous notes, most likely because Swiss cows roam the Alps freely.

On Sundays, almost everything in Switzerland is closed. The government keeps a pretty tight leash on business and enforces a reasonable work/life balance. I decided to hike the Uetelberge, a small mountain just outside the city. I met an American couple from Denver on the way up. They had been living in Zurich for a year, so they shared local tips throughout our accent. We ate grilled sausages and drank beers at the top, overlooking the city to one side, and the Swiss Apls to the other. The vendor had both red and white sausages (beef and pork respectively) the pork having a smoother texture, yet slightly gamier flavor. Both were served with sliced bread and senf (the German, spiced Dijon mustard).

At the suggestion of my new friends, I rode my bike to the other side of the lake, the “gold coast.” Because of the closure of stores, the series of parks and green spaces was full of people grilling, drinking, playing, and relaxing. I found a group playing volleyball and asked to join. I soon found that I stumbled upon an internationals Facebook group, young professionals from all over the world who moved to Zurich for work. I spent the afternoon with 25-35yr olds from Argentina to New Zealand, all in the early stages of their career, all with Swiss Bank accounts (a running joke among them).

After hours of volleyball, jumping in the lake, drinking, and talking, for the first time in my trip, I forgot I was traveling. The enjoyment of the sunlight, the drink, and the company of others was a common thread that transcended the myriad backgrounds, ethnicities, and languages. I felt at home.

Travel changes you. It expands your perspective (and hopefully your pallet too). It is the only other passion that matches mine of gastronomy. I made new friends, had new experiences, ate new things, and got to see a little slice more of what this world has to offer.

Eurotrip Part 3- Luxembourg

After my tour of Belgium, I once again boarded a train, this time bound for Luxembourg City. A number of people during the trip asked me why I planned on visiting Luxembourg, being the small country that it is. To be honest, my answer was twofold: First, because I haven’t heard anyone else mention they have seen it and second, because it was on my way.

Luxembourg City is by no means large; nor could it be considered a tourist destination. The city center itself, with its European-style shopping avenues open to foot traffic only, form a grid, easily navigated. To the west of the city, the river Uelzecht weaves below steeply curved hills separating the new part of town from the old. The Bock, a large, stone, naturally occurring wall that once housed soldiers, now stands as a tourist attraction.

My hostel was in the Eastern part of the city, so I wandered the old town as I made my way to the shopping district. As I was appreciating the antiquated architecture, I noticed a grove of apple trees on the edge of the town. Apples had fallen naturally from the trees and were strewn all over the ground. I local informed me that the grove was tended by the city and that the apples were free for anyone to take. None of the apples were of a variety I could name, but upon tasting them, they were mostly tart, firm, and crunchy. One looked like a miniature red delicious, but didn’t have any of the cardboard consistency I have come to expect of that variety.

I continued my stroll into the city’s center. In the late afternoon, the shopping district was bustling. Restaurants, in the European style, were empty inside as eaters were, instead, spread across tables spilling into town squares. Upon locating a grocery store, I entered to see if Luxembourg had appreciably different ingredients than my previous travels. Mostly, it was a repeat of things I had seen before, but I did purchase some golden dates. The skin was not wrinkled as I have come to expect, and the bright colored skin gave way to a firmer texture, not the gooey inside of a usual date. The selection of local cheeses was limited, and the few that I did sample had a gummy texture, and mild flavor. I did end up selecting a brie that was sharp and tangy, but it was from France. The cheese area also had a curler for sale. Enchanted by the thought of making cheese florets, I purchased that as well.

Other locals I met perusing the store mentioned that I should go North and see the fair that was in town for the weekend. I took up their suggestion, and was pleasantly surprised to feel quite at home. Overpriced rides and carnival games that are nearly unwinnable were interspersed between food vendors. Churros, kebab, and hamburgers were available, but so were grilled sausages with a variety of sauces ranging from a horseradishy dijon mustard (senf), to a spicy, squirtably mayonnaise they called samurai sauce. The local specialty was a potato pancake, mixed with herbs and a little egg as a binder, then deep fried. Clearly, healthy was not the name of the game. To quench one’s thirst from all the fried and salty foods, beergardens also scattered the fair. Standing tables were heavily populated with raucous crowds, parents getting some much needed time, using the fair as a babysitter.

Back at the hostel, my nightcap was a shot of eau du vie, a 90 proof clear spirit flavored with plum, shared with my roommates for the night: A Parisien man in his retirement, a young man from Germany, a Romanian man moving to Luxembourg for an internship, and two Spanish men on vacation. Cheers to that.

Next stop: Zurich

Eurotrip Part 2 – A Glass for Every Beer

After gallivanting through Amsterdam, I hopped on a train bound for Belgium. First stop, Antwerp. Belgium is an interesting country in that it feels very different depending on where you are. The countries surrounding Belgium have a heavy influence on food and language. Antwerp is in the North, so Dutch is predominantly spoken.

Antwerp is a city with strong cultural dividing lines. Move from one street to the next and you change from a Middle East/Muslim neighborhood to a heavily Hissidic Jew one. This is reflected in what dining options are available in each part of the city. But what really struck my interest was the Trappist Brewery 45 minutes outside of the city. There are only eight Trappist breweries in the world, two in the Netherlands, five in Belgium, and one in the USA. Trappist monks get their name from a period of reform which started in La Trappe Abbey in Normandy, France. The monks speak only as necessary and brew beer, make cheese, soap, and other items to sell only to continue their livelihood and contribute to charity. Westmalle, the abbey outside of Antwerp, produces two kinds of beer, a dubbel and a trippel. These are commercially available in any bar or grocery store. However, there is a third beer that can only be purchased at the café outside the brewery, Extra. This is the brew the monks themselves drink, and only the additional is sold. After a long bus ride, participating in a Trappist Mass, meandering through the grounds (the abbey and the brewery are off limits), I picked up a couple bottles of the nano-brew. The dubbel is the color of milk chocolate, and has earthy and hoppy tones. The trippel is closer to a blond ale, slightly sweeter and the taste of the barely comes through. The Extra I did not sample yet, as it is a present.

My next stop was Brugge. Situated in the West of Belgium, Brugge has a much more French influence. Locals call themselves Brugge Zot (fools) and the town itself is quite quaint, but very touristy. Chocolate shops, lace stores, and beer vendors are on every corner, each selling the same array of goods. Through the cloud of consumerism, there are a few places that purvey unique products. De Halve Maan is one.

The local brewery has been creating beer since 1856. Tours through their timeline, brewing process, and of course, sampling, take place daily. Having a unique glass for each beer is a marketing ploy in Belgium. Everything from horns, to trumpets, flasks and decanters line the walls of every bar. De Halve Maan is no exception, as they poured the Brugge Zot into a chalice that grew wider towards the top of the glass. During the tour, I tasted the barley from which the Zot was fermented, and the taste came through. The hop flavor was delicate and not bitter and the pour intentionally left a substantial head which lingered as I sipped.

The other consumable that immediately comes to mind when one invokes Belgium is chocolate. Most of the tourist-driven stores in both  Brussels and Brugge (predominantly French-speaking) featured nuts, fruit, wafers, cookies, and ganache, all covered in very smooth, decadent, white, milk, or dark chocolate. Maybe it was the language barrier, but I was hard pressed to determine how one chocolate shop was different from another. Most vendors couldn’t tell me the origin of the chocolate, or anything about the recipe. The Chocolate Line was different.

The scent of chocolate pervaded the store, despite the constant foot traffic and open door. Solid bars of chocolate, broken by hand, were available for purchase by the gram. A huge array of chocolate pralines, in uncommon flavors, sat enticingly behind a glass wall. All the while, white smocked, chocolate stained chocolatiers spread, plated, and crafted new creations in a kitchen behind a large window. As expected of me, I purchased a slew of the greatest oddities The Chocolate Line had to offer. 

(Top Left, going clockwise) Shiso was a blend of mild mint with basil. Slightly herbaceous, but no plant matter in the center. Fried onions, heavily reduced, chopped fine, sweet and almost candied were encased in silky milk chocolate. Asian confetti combined the saltiness of soy sauce with a sweetness of teriyaki, the dark chocolate provided a bitter point. Wasabi did not punch me in the face with a horseradish-esque burn but rather, the punch was pulled in favor of lighting up my nostrils to the dark chocolate flavor. Chili pepper and lime combined for a striking gelee as I bit into the South American inspired creation. Black olives, sun dried tomato, and basil were wrapped in dark chocolate in the Italian praline, this one more savory than the rest. I found myself wanting olive oil, balsamic, and some pasta to round out the taste.

Belgium is a wonderfully varied nation. Despite its small size, one can find chocolate like the Swiss, fries like the Dutch, cheese like the French, but a beer culture that it is all their own. A great stop for any Eurotrip. Next stop, Luxembourg.

Eurotrip Part 1 - Of Windmills and Wooden Shoes

I am back from my European vacation and have much to tell. My journey began in Amsterdam. The city itself is a wonderful blend of old and new. Traditional rows of houses stand a single street away from a shopping district. The Dam Square is the center of town with the enormous amount of bike traffic filtering through it. Man made canals curve throughout the city, and if my tour guide’s numbers were right, around 70 bikes fall into them every day.

Amsterdam is a tourism-driven city, so authentic Netherland food is not easy to find. Gouda cheese, on the other hand, is very easy to find. Next to every souvenir shop there is a cheese shop selling the exact same array of both young and old gouda cheeses. The young ones, even flavored with nettles, wasabi, paprika, etc, are bland and gummy. The aged goudas, made from cow, sheep, and goat milk, are firmer, saltier, and have a nutty bite. However, these are nothing you cant get in your local Whole Foods. Reypenaer is a different story.

Located on the West side of the city on a corner overlooking one of the many canals, Reypenaer cheese makes their own propriety blends of gouda. For 15€, you can take a cheese tasting class, sampling six different cheeses and analyzing them as though they were fine wines, which are also poured during the tasting. My personal favorite was a three year gouda, crumbly with salt crystals, and smelled of walnuts and smoke. The cheese was rich and filled your senses.

Equally as abundant as the cheese was stroopwaffles. These thin, crunchy wafer/waffles sandwich a layer of honey or maple syrup, making the whole delicacy gooey, very sweet, and perfect for a cup of coffee.

Walking the streets of Amsterdam, one could not help but notice the persistent perfume of French fries. It seems to be the snack of choice, drenched as they are in mayonnaise. I tried this “delicacy,” and was nonplussed. I understand the crunchy, salty, creamy, slightly sour combination, but it just didn’t do it for me.

As always, I found myself wandering through local grocery stores. The selection of fruits, vegetables, breads, canned and dry goods was not significantly different from what you might find in an American grocery, but there were a few exceptions. Even smaller local stores had cut-to-order cheese counters. Most bread was sold in individual servings rather than cut loaves, but that’s a European thing anyway. One thing that was not unfamiliar, but traditional, was stamppot. In this dish, potatoes are mashed with vegetables like kale and carrots, and usually, a small divet is made for gravy. This is eaten with smoked sausage. Like any home cooked food, variations abound and everyone likes their mother’s best. 

Also popular was a mashed, seasoned steak spread, not unlike tartar. It was sandwiched in bread, dolloped on crackers, or served aside cheese. Again, garlic, onion, and other spice variations were available, but any way you had it, the beefy spread was always welcome on my plate.

Next stop: Belgium