Food Highlights from our New Zealand & Australia Honeymoon

Wow, it's been almost five months since my last post. Eesh. I had some projects going on, but now I'm back. Hopefully. If only to tell you about our amazing 3-week honeymoon in New Zealand and Australia. 

Why those destinations? Well, we wanted to go somewhere once-in-a-lifetime. A place that could sustain a lengthy trip. A place that mixed nature, food, relaxation and adventuring. So it was down under for us. 

I'll share some of our excursions, but for now, I'll get into what you're probably interested in most: the food! 

New Zealand and Australia might not come to mind as top food destinations. You'd sooner think of other popular honeymoon spots like Tuscany or Southeast Asia. 

But what Aussie/Kiwi food lacks in rhapsodic buzz it makes up in quality, diversity, and creativity. Plus, some interesting takes on iconic dishes. Here are some of our fav bites: 

PAVLOVA

Pavlova is my type of dessert. Named after the Russian ballerina, Anna Pavlova, the dessert is typically a ring of meringue filled with cream and fruit.

This one at The Landing Bar in Franz Josef opted for a softer, more marshmallow-like meringue, and a hokey pokey ice cream. Hokey pokey is also known as honeycomb candy, an excellent way to make use of New Zealand's prized Manuka honey. 

EXOTIC MEATS

Weird how we *saw* all these animals at the Wildlife Habitat in Port Douglas...and then the next day we sought to eat them. I'll deal with carnivorous guilt another time...

I've had all these meats before, but with the exception of croc in the Florida Everglades (revolting, cartilaginous and slimy, with red veins coursing through), all those meats must've been shipped from far away. The patties at Mason's Cafe in Cape Tribulation were hand-formed, lightly packed, and fresh. Of the three burgers, the croc tasted the best!

This dish was from our favorite meal of the trip, at Salsa Bar & Grill in Port Douglas. Paperbark-smoked kangaroo loin with goat cheese marshmallow and guava pulp. The meat was tender and silky -- like filet mignon but with more flavor. (Random trivia: This is where Hillary and Bill Clinton were when they found out about 9/11. I think the staff tells every American that.) 

Side note: if you're in New Zealand you also *must* have lamb. We had shanks, a burger, and a lamb salad before we officially ODed.

PINOT NOIR

I drink wine and have basic knowledge, but I'm not really a wine person. I regard wine like I regard eyebrow threading and expensive artwork...someday, but not when I have other things on my plate.

But! My go-to wine is always always Pinot Noir and New Zealand's Otago region is the place for that. We enjoyed a Pinot tasting at No 5 Church Lane in Queenstown and this Pinot and Otago cherry bon-bon at Patagonia in Arrowtown. 

TROPICAL FRUITS

You can tell a lot about a person from their AIM screenname. Mine? Mauibamba. I take to the tropics...even if my hair doesn't. 

I loved the musky sweet taste of pressed sugarcane with ginger and lime. Post-hike, we drank from a fresh coconut, then returned to the stand so it could be split with a machete and shredded with a table-mounted reamer.

Another fav: a selection of ice creams from Daintree Ice Cream Company, a farm shack that rotates flavors from their orchard. We had jackfruit, soursop, passionfruit and wattleseed (a flavor that D astutely described as chocolate root beer). 

Side note: the apples are also really good in New Zealand. Galas, of course, but the best was a new variety started in NZ called the Smitten, a cross between Gala, Braeburn, Falstaff and Fiesta apples. So crispppy.

LAMINGTONS

A lamington is a spongecake, coated in chocolate and pressed in shredded coconut. Sometimes they sandwich jam or cream. How delightful is that? 

I loved how pillowy light they are -- less sinful than a cupcake, more substantial than a macaron. I'd have a lamington over either of those any day. 

SEAFOOD

Barely needs mentioning, but I will just to round out this list. Common fish we ate/saw on menus: mackerel, barramundi, grouper (which they spell groper), and some new-to-me fishes like gurnard and gem fish. 

If you're in Sydney, check out the Sydney Fish Market, the most diverse fish market outside of Japan and eye-popping good fun and better eats. 

CAFE CULTURE

You may have heard that Australia is "taking over the NYC restaurant scene". Even if you don't know the origins, you know the vibe. Airy interiors. Flat whites. Acai bowls. Muesli. And of course, AVOCADO TOAST. These are Australian imports (as far as you can track these things). 

Breakfast dishes usually bore me. Eggs get old and I've never been a pancake or waffle girl. I prefer bacon as an accent, not as the main attraction. 

But on our honeymoon, breakfast was my favorite meal. A few of my favorite breakfast dishes: cauliflower hash with agria, spinach aioli, mango chili chutney; coconut chia pudding with rambutan and passionfruit; probiotic salads with poached egg. And a flat white always.

GENERAL CARE & CONSIDERATION 

Ok, so this is just a basic picnic lunch. But it was prepared and assembled on-the-spot during our Dart River Funyaking expedition. Our river guides brought fresh vegetables and bread on their kayaks and then sliced them on-site. This really shocked me. We also had coffee, tea, cakes and fresh fruit -- all built up and broken down in the middle of nowhere. It was so... civilized. 

Now, you may argue that perhaps this was a "luxury" experience and we paid for such care. Maybe. That doesn't totally explain why they didn't just bring sliced bread. To me, this felt like a real respect for food and the eating experience.

I felt this all over New Zealand and Australia. From the lack of to-go cups, to natural nourishing ingredients rather than gut-bombing cheap shots, to plates that spoke to all the senses. We ate every well. 

Dessert at Salsa Bar & Grill 

THE RECS - PLACES WE WENT TO & LIKED
 

NEW ZEALAND

Christchurch
Black Betty
Roots -- we didn't go here because we didn't know any better at the time 

Queenstown
Bespoke Kitchen
Public Kitchen & Bar
No 5 Church Lane 
Madam Woo
Mrs Ferg Gelataria and Fergbaker (we never made it to Fergburger -- line was too long!) 

Arrowtown
Chop Shop Food Merchants
Patagonia (also in Wanaka and Queenstown)

AUSTRALIA

Port Douglas
Cafe FresQ
Salsa Bar & Grill
Lanternfish
Daintree Ice Cream Company

Sydney
Cross Eatery
Sydney Fish Market

Have you been to New Zealand or Australia? What were your favorite bites? 
 

Los Angeles Eats: Sqirl in Silverlake

New Yorkers visiting LA, here's a tip. On your first couple days, don't worry about adjusting to the new time zone. Get to Sqirl early -- it opens at 6:30am for drinks and pastries during the week, and the kitchen heats up at 8am. No line, just morning light and the best breakfast in your recent memory. (Or in my case, maybe ever??) 

I like breakfast/brunch as a social event, but as a meal, it's not my thing. Pancakes and waffles knock me out for the rest of the day. I love eggs, but they get boring easily. Benedict, omelette, with a side of bacon (even if it is maple-glazed, submerged in a Bloody Mary, thick cut from a heritage pig...) Meh. I'd rather have an interesting dinner plate. 

But Sqirl! I will fully admit that I'm a sucker for avocado toasts and chicory lattes, handmade almond milks and jams. But even D who is wary of anything hyped and twee loved it. We went twice over four days. 

Here's what Mark Bittman said of Jessica Koslow's cooking in the NY Times: 

Instead, it’s a kind of gentler version of dinner food, with little or no meat, but often with eggs and seasonings from the southern and eastern Mediterranean and much of Asia, and yet somehow, in the end, quite American. Nothing is bland or insipid, and much of the food is laced with a sharpness that comes from lemon juice and hot sauce and garlic and pickled things. For breakfast food, it’s downright revolutionary. 

Yep. We're used to breakfast "notes": cheese, potatoes, hollandaise, bacon, buttery carbs, maple syrup. But what Koslow brings is something else entirely. 

Take the "Green Eggs and Jam", caramelized onions, creamed spinach, wild arugula, and a toad in the hole in Clark Street Bakery bread. It's addictively savory, without crutches of cheese or pork. The bread is key, soft and pillowy, just a whisper of sour. Each bite hits on every register from sharp and peppery to sweet and slow-cooked. 

And then there's the sorrel bowl, with Kokuko Rose brown rice, sorrel pesto, preserved Meyer lemon, lacto-fermented hot sauce, pickled radish, sheep's milk feta and poached egg. I won't go into the hot sauce, pickles and feta, which are riotous players that add heat, brine and funk. But preserved lemon! What? The flavor -- sour, bitter, salty -- makes this breakfast one for the books. The sorrel adds an apologetic weedy note (not marijuana...the other type of weed, jeez). 

The avocado toast (top) presently features JJ's avocados, hot pickled carrots, green garlic creme fraiche, wood sorrel, and house za'atar. This is served all day (as opposed to the breakfast items, which are only available 'til the leisurely hour of 4pm).  I'd venture to say this is the oddest avocado toast I've ever had, and that's a good thing...like I've been listening to flutes and clarinets -- sweet, mellow, easy -- and finally someone plays the oboe -- sharp, strange, memorable.  

Here's the "Famous Damus", soft scrambled egg, Surryano ham, chives, ciabatta. We liked this one, though it's definitely more familiar in flavor than our other dishes. 

Sqirl also serves lovely drinks and pastries. The almond milk is made in-house (so no worrying about weird emulsifiers). 

This has become our dream wedding cake flavor combo: chocolate with blood orange. The best part? The crackled cacao nib crust. 

Sqirl historians will know that it actually started as a jam business. If we went a third time, I'd surely get the burnt brioche with almond hazelnut butter and jam. Instead, I have two jars at home: the rather romantic-sounding Moro Blood Orange and Tonga Vanilla Marmalade and Rhubarb and Meiwa Kumquat Jam. I can't wait to try them in yogurt, on ice cream, or let's be real, by the spoonful. 

Word to the wise -- jams are considered liquid and cannot be taken in carry-on luggage! I learned this the hard way. The TSA woman at the Long Beach airport saw me go from okay to grief-stricken in record time. Don't do that. 

Parsing the Per Se Review

There is one fewer 4-star restaurant in New York. The NYT review of Per Se: https://t.co/D8Lf9A8D3B pic.twitter.com/q1EuoGVMOR

— The New York Times (@nytimes) January 13, 2016

Last Tuesday, my Twitter feed read like this: tributes to David Bowie, the State of the Union, and the one that beat everything—Pete Wells slaughtered Per Se in the New York Times, downgrading Thomas Keller's Central Park temple from a vaunted four stars to a humiliating two.

If I didn’t already write a book about this exact scenario, I’d be inspired anew. In an age where we discover restaurants on Yelp, Instagram and blogs rather than crusty old media, why such a frenzy? Even people who have no desire to dine at Per Se are weighing in. How come?

We might not look to the New York Times as the final word on a restaurant’s worth, but restaurant reviews matter for other reasons: 

#Laksa #Kuching Breakfast of the Gods

A photo posted by anthonybourdain (@anthonybourdain) on May 28, 2015 at 6:57pm PDT

·       Chefs may be rock stars, but critics are the real idols. When people eat for sport, their idols aren’t really chefs. Of the hundreds of thousands of people who have posted about the #cronut, how many have followed Dominique Ansel's recipe and spent the three days to make it? My guess: next to none.

 But critics! Those professional eaters: Anthony Bourdain, Andrew Zimmern, Gail Simmons, Jonathan Gold, Ruth Reichl, Kate Krader. They travel the world, savoring the world's most extraordinary cuisine. Let's be real, though critics insist eating for a living is a tough gig, it sure beats the antiseptic office jobs most of us have. We’re fascinated by critics—their power, their disguises, their company credit card—and, if we’re being honest, we probably want to be them.

·       Restaurant happenings are deliciously dynamic and gossipy. In certain cities, among certain circles, restaurant blogs are like sports pages and reservations are courtside seats. We track where chefs are headed, what places are shuttering, the debut of a chicken sandwich/veggie burger/bone broth menu. And when a four-star restaurant is stripped of half its stars, that’s the stuff of scandal.

Mr @pete_wells before you try to destroy a restaurant like Per Se + others, you show know the odds of owning one @DanielBoulud @ChefBianco

— François Payard (@francoispayard) January 14, 2016

·       Critics are not normal journalists, so it’s easy (and fun) to theorize on their motivations. People treat reviews like literature or Supreme Court rulings, reading between the lines. Does he have an ax to grind? Is she cozy with the chef? Why such spiteful language? Whether he likes it or not, a critic reveals more than the meal in his writing.   

A naïf might assume reviewers are objective and fair, that they come to the table with no biases. But what is a review except for a written declaration of bias? There are clear fails (a hair in your soup, a delayed dish), but the rest is pretty subjective. Where's the line between too salty and well-seasoned? Aloof and respectful of your space? “Limp and dispirited" and elegantly draped? The decision comes down to perspective, a plate through the lens of personal experience. After all, one man's bong water is another man's ambrosia.

·       There may be more voices, but that doesn’t mean there’s more criticism. Instagrams tend to be fanatical and food porny (like flies, it’s easier to attract “Likes“ with oozing honey rather than vinegar). Yelp has a star system, but there's no standardization. Per Se has 4.5 stars, but so does Cheesecake Factory.  For a measured, informed, and trustworthy review, you'll have to look elsewhere.

A critic is like a personal trainer. We might not love them and often they spoil the fun. But sometimes we crave that rigor. Critics—good ones—are immensely knowledgeable and aren't afraid to call out bad form.

·       Restaurants are about status. We read reviews to see how the other side lives, to imagine an existence in which we can afford to spend $3,000 on a dinner for four. Maybe you enjoy the absurdity, a la Real Housewives. Or you're incensed by the social injustice. Or perhaps you pin this experience to your “Someday” dream board.

NYT Per Se review reveals a world so different frm my own I feel Ive glimpsed another planet https://t.co/mQczLXnbkM pic.twitter.com/TsSmXaSMQP

— travis lupick (@tlupick) January 13, 2016

Many of the Times' most iconic reviews touch on wealth and entitlement. Ruth Reichl's dinner as herself and her Midwestern alter ego “Molly“ at Le Cirque. Sam Sifton's takedown of Lavo, where bankers dine as a prelude to clubbing. Pete Wells and his surprising admiration of the anti-Per Se, Señor Frog's.

New York City runs on money and access disguised as art, style, and culture. Prime Hamilton tickets, the latest Mansur Gavriel bag, an 8pm at Polo Bar. It's exhilarating or exhausting, depending on who you ask.

In his book, How to Lose Friends and Alienate People, Toby Young recounts a conversation with his boss, Vanity Fair editor and man-about-town Graydon Carter. It's called the “Seven Rooms Theory" and postulates that in cities across the globe there are seven connected rooms, each more exclusive than the last.

"You think you've arrived, doncha?" he said. "I hate to break it to you but you're only in the first room." He paused. "It's not nothing — don't get me wrong — but it's not that great either. Believe me, there are plenty of people in this town who got to the first room and then didn't get any further. After a year or so, maybe longer, you'll discover a secret doorway at the back of the first room that leads to the second room. In time, if you're lucky, you'll discover a doorway in the back of the second room that leads to the third. There are seven rooms in total and you're in the first. Doncha forget it."

 When we hear that a lofty restaurant like Per Se is “among the worst food deals in New York“, we can breathe a sigh of relief. Perhaps the things/meals/jobs/lives we strive for aren't worth the anguish and feelings of inadequacy. For the moment, we can be satisfied with our current room. At least for now.    

Smorgasburg at Industry City

In my book, I may write about Manhattan exploits and designer threads, but part (most?) of me is wholly Brooklyn: maker culture, craft fairs, warehouses, and yes… artisanal products.

Back in another life, I was the Marketing & Events Director at 3rd Ward, a creative workshop in Bushwick, Brooklyn. It was basically a mega creative co-working space with a wood/metal shop, textile studio, jewelry studio, media lab, photography studios, and over 200 classes a quarter. I loved being surrounded by makers and entrepreneurs of all types, people who took a creative (not to mention financial) risk to make their mark. It was a big change for me -- I had to temporarily retire all my Manolo Blahniks. They don't do well in Bushwick warehouses -- but that BK DIY spirit became a part of my DNA.

I adore all the Brooklyn Flea/Smorgasburgs, but especially the new one in Industry City for purely nostalgic reasons. The warehouse reminds me of 3rd Ward and our annual Craft Fair (check out these pics and you'll see why). It's been open for less than a month and people aren’t quite holiday shopping yet, so the space is thankfully not too crowded.

Side note: Eric Demby, one of the Brooklyn Flea co-founders called me when he was first developing Smorgasburg (then simply “a Brooklyn Flea” but only with food). He wanted to know if 3rd Ward had any artists who’d like to contribute “an iconic piece of work” for this new project. I talked to a couple metalworkers and an inflatable sculptor, but alas nothing panned out. Still regret not becoming more involved early on. 

How much do I love this location? I went there two days in a row. Here's the weekend, in pics. 

Are you into rugs? I was skeptical, too, until I was in the market myself and got sucked into the mania. Knots per inch, silk, wool, kilim, Moroccan, Irani, Tibetan ... it's a whole world. I'm definitely not alone in this passion. The central node of this Brooklyn Flea includes these two swoony rug vendors. 

These butterfly dioramas by Flutter by Katie stopped me dead in my tracks. D and I are butterfly people (because of their beauty, grace, and metamorphosis...that is some crazy isht). These would make stunning gifts and unlike terrariums, they truly are foolproof and cannot die (RIP all my terrariums). 

But anyway, onto FOOD!

I always gravitate to Adobo Shack (the nomadic sister of Lumpia Shack in Greenwich Village). This is a brown rice bowl with chicken, coconut milk, pickled jalapenos, coconut yogurt, shrimp chips, and a fried egg. Filipino food, man. So good. Bright and brassy. Nothing murky here, just flavors as clear as a (slightly funky) bell. 

The next day, we went to Lucy's Vietnamese (I guess I was in an Asian food mood). D occasionally orders from them at work and I had to try it for myself. Due to a small ordering mix-up, we got the tofu pho and tofu banh mi. First, pho > ramen during these warm fall days. You want something cozy and nourishing, but without the slicks of fat and porky breath. Pho hits the spot. The banh mi was also great. The soft bread with the ever-so-thin-crust makes it. Next time I'd order a meat one though. 

We also had this vegan "Sloppy Jane" from Tamarack, the Smorg-arm to Willow and The Pines.  Jane, you are sloppy. This was vegetarian -- a mushroom sludge ground up and presumably cooked low and slow with tomato paste. The bun, kindly, is just as soft as its innards so as to avoid excess slop. 

I'll admit I didn't eat the following dishes, but they are duly noted for next time. 

It seems these are the Ramen Burger (which is also there) of Industry City. Behold the WOWfulls, a Hong Kong-style eggy pancake with ice cream and mochi. I'm into this whole creamy/crisp/chewy/eggy thing. Anyways I've always thought waffles are better than anything in the pancake/crepe family. 

Oaxaca Taqueria has eleven (!) locations. And yet, sadly, I haven't been to one. Despite the straight-forward name, the restaurant has a bit of a selective Korean spin. Above, a classic tlayuda/"pizza" with black bean puree, Oaxaca cheese, lettuce, cabbage, red onion, queso fresco and crema. And tacos. (Yeah, didn't pick the best Korean-influenced dishes to photograph.) 

Barbecue is well represented, with Fletcher's (left), Grandpa Val's (top right), and Monk's Meats if you wanna go vegan.

Plus, there are old-school vendors like Anthi's Greek Food and another Italian place whose name I didn't catch and I can't find online. (Help in comments?) I like seeing new Brooklyn and old Brooklyn mix like this.

On the left are "buns" from Ramen Burger. The rumors are true -- you can get them here without a line. On the right is a pan con queso from Santa Salsa (Venezuelan street food) with grilled white latin cheese, onions, cabbage, chips, ketchup, mustard, and a parsley/cilantro sauce. 

Once all the other Smorgasburgs close for the winter, I expect many vendors will move into Industry City. For now, there seems to be a disproportionally high number of hot sauce vendors and a low number of dessert vendors. There's Blue Marble, Alchemy Creamery, The Brooklyn Baking Barons, Vendome Macaron Bar, and Dough Doughnuts (above). 

Um, so I guess there are a good number of dessert vendors. But I just wanted more! Have you been to Industry City yet? Who's your favorite Smorgasburg vendor? 

Engagement Dinner at Blue Hill at Stone Barns

Over the weekend, my parents treated Dave and me (and my brother and his gf) to a meal at Blue Hill at Stone Barns, Dan Barber’s uber farm-to-table restaurant.

It was my fourth time -- and by far the best. This was also the first time I had the Grazing, Pecking, Rooting menu (In fact, this is the only option. The shorter Farmer’s Feast is no longer available).

A couple general thoughts before we get into the play-by-play.

• Dinner was an epic 29 courses and took four hours. We got there at 4:30, which seems like punishingly early. But, if you’re coming from NYC, that means 4:30 is the perfect time to start if you want to get home before midnight. Plus, the natural light makes for better photos.

• Even my Dad liked it, which is a shock because he notoriously hates: small bites, long menus, expensive meals. This was all three and he loved it. Take note if your Dad is the same way!

• Service is virtuosic, like all fine dining restaurants. Though here, the waitstaff is a little looser, part theater ushers, part sustainable farming advocates, part normal people-touchstones during a meal that is, after all, very long and somewhat studious. I was wondering out loud what Blue Hill at Stone Barns to-go would be like (they’d need a lot of containers… here’s one for the log, the bed of nails…), and one waiter overheard and chuckled along.

• Speaking of theater, I found this to be is a little similar to immersive shows like Queen of the Night and Sleep No More. You have to give up control. You use your hands for 20 out of 29 dishes. You search for little breadsticks inside a thicket of decorative moss because someone told you to. Even the tables along the wall face inward, as if the dining room was a stage (which, it is).

A few disclaimers:

• This is not a review. An interviewer once asked me if I ever wanted to be the New York Times restaurant critic (as Tia does in Food Whore). And the answer is…no. Sure, I love the idea of expense accounts, the power and platform. But I identify more with the chef than the critic. The two need each other, of course. But I’d rather be on the side of creation rather than critique.

• Though we started early, it did get dark. So the lighting is not ideal starting at around course 18. Obviously I didn't use flash inside.

• I stand by everything that's bolded (minus what's followed by a ?). But any other thoughts on ingredients and prep are just my (educated) guesses.

Ok, and let's get into...

DINNER

1) Vegetables from the farm - white radish, tomato, boy choy, pattypan squash

An iconic Blue Hill at Stone Barns dish that sets the tone for the rest of the meal. You may indiscriminately throw these very same ingredients into your build-your-own salad (though they will be of a much lesser lineage). But these vegetables are meant to be considered. From the moment you pluck them off their nails, like artwork off a wall, your senses are on alert. Each bite was lightly slicked with a salty/sour vinaigrette. But it’s just a whisper. Enough to say, a chef was here.

2) Radish with poppy seed butter and poppy seeds

Another clue to what’s to come. An everything bagel in a bite the size of a large multi-vitamin -- the poppy seeds of course, plus the pepperiness of the radish, the creaminess of the butter. Ie: We might be eating veggies in ways you never expected, but that doesn’t mean you won’t recognize and enjoy these flavor profiles.

3) Tondo Scuro Di Piacenza Squash with shiso honey

Prepped and served with a slicer/corer, this was surely meant to conjure autumnal memories of dipping apple slices into caramel. The squash was subtle, a vehicle for the Julianne Moore of honeys, fragrant and mild, but with surprising presence.

4) Needles in a haystack (breadsticks)

This reminded me of this Alan Cumming story about how he accidentally ate dirt at a $5,000 Noma dinner. Who could blame him? These breadsticks were kinda cheesy, with a rustic grainy flavor (cotton : white bread :: tweed : these breadsticks).

5) Flaxseed sunflower crackers with cured egg yolk and bresaola

Depending on your frame of reference, these either tasted like cheez-its, the inside of a salty egg mooncake, or a cracker made by your raw foodist aunt.

6) Speck and peaches

The heat turned the speck into a savory shell, drying and concentrating what is already dried and concentrated. The char had equal billing with the speck and peaches, a technique that lives as flavor. (Note the charred bones on the bottom… more on that later.)

7) Forage - berry vines covering fennel and wild berry tarts

My mother “foraged” this for my side of the table, and I felt a little cheated, as if she blew out my birthday candle. But nevermind. These may look like traditional canapés, but they had a very outdoorsy flavor. Maybe because the berries retained their stems, a little wild greenness that complicates an otherwise classic bite.

8) Deep-fried sunchoke flowers

At first, you only get the tempura flavor. But it only takes a second to get the gestalt. Did you know that sunchokes are part of the sunflower family? And, what do you get when you take the artichoke flavor of a sunchoke + fat + nutty crunch?

A sunflower seed. This wasn’t like a tempura at all -- a vegetable covered in a batter. The batter and the main ingredient clicked into something unified, as sure as a handshake.

9) Cucumber rings and yogurt

Looks like carnival candy and was just as fun to eat. I think the cucumber was vacuum-sealed or something. This had a watery but thick toothfeel… as if eating a cucumber Chuckle. The yogurt was also really fun -- a powder that liquified upon touch. I may have dipped my fingertips into it multiple times.

10) Pig heart pastrami

The opposite of cooped-up chicken or a wobbly-legged lamb. This muscle works every single day...until it doesn’t. In turn, it tastes purposeful. I can appreciate this, but heart just isn’t for me. Maybe I’ve been watching too much Walking Dead (we’re catching up before Season 6 starts).

11) Ham sandwich

What’s not to like? Silky ham with slightly melted lard on a textured, rough cracker. Not sure what the green is, besides the aesthetics of lichen simulcritude. But my guess is that it’s some sort of tomato essence wash. (When we went in the kitchen, I saw a cracker with a red wash.)

12) Brussels sprouts with charcoal mayonnaise

These stalks were slow-roasted with some goodness (possibly just olive oil and salt?). Great. Then you slice them off with a mini-sickle. Fun. Then you dip them into a umamied-out charcoal mayo. Fantastic.

Plus, you have to appreciate dishes like this that amp up the interactive element. You need some sort of action to break through the monotony of chain-eating.

13) Tomato burgers

Another classic and one of my favs. Tomatoes are slow-roasted until they are thick, jammy, and very sweet. The “buns” are buttery like a brioche, but pop like a wafer. This whole thing is like a savory macaron. More please! 

14) Pork pate with chocolate

This was very rich and smooth with the slightest whiff of funk. A micro-crisp of chocolate added a welcome bitter tonic.

15) Tomato, hyssop and horseradish

This looked like a beef tartare, but it was all tomato -- boiled, softened and skinned. You could go down a rabbit hole thinking of the origins of this dish. Is it an ode to Ferran Adria’s tomato tartare at el Bulli? Or is Dan Barber riffing on the classic recipe: horseradish instead of whole grain mustard? Or is he riffing on tartare and tartar, sauce made with horseradish? Or maybe because they just taste good together and are in season. Who knows.

16) Farmer’s cheese with plums and bone marrow

This looks runny, but was actually pretty firm. A nice somewhat Asian riff on a caprese, with sesame oil instead of olive oil, plums instead of tomatoes, watercress instead of basil. I still don’t know where the bone marrow is, but my guess is that it was used to fortify the cheese, much like cream fortifies burrata.

17) Swordfish and corned beef burritos wrapped with cilantro and daikon (?), blood lime tapenade

Not much to look at, but a delightful and simple surf and turf using somewhat humble proteins. Seasoned daikon did double duty as a receptacle and pickled crunch factor (I feel strongly that pickled crunch is the sandwich X factor).

18) Herb-charred string beans and snow peas with apricot yogurt and flowers

Another one of my favs. You know how cruciferous vegetables (broccoli, brussels sprouts, cauliflower) transform into addictive savory/sweet bites when roasted? This had a similar effect, but even more profound (possibly because the beans inside contain more sugar).

19) Potato pizza with tomato, mushrooms, beets and cheddar foam

Delightful. This tasted like a real pizza, but one that was given the Roger Rabbit villain treatment: flattened to a literal crisp. You don’t miss the carby bulk or the heavy cheese or the meat for that matter. Everything I love about pizza is here.

20) Beet and pork hot dog on a whole wheat bun, served with beet ketchup and fermented apple mustard

Two-thirds in, we went on an excursion to the outside patio. The sun was setting. We ate hot dogs, drank beer, warmed up next to a volcano-like grill. It was kinda perfect. I’m not sure how much beet was in this hot dog (certainly enough for color, but beyond that, I’m not sure). But it was pretty delicious either way.

This is also when we started getting pretty full.

And, remember those blackened bones in course 6, the speck and peaches? They’re carbonized out here--bones, corn cobs, crab shells. It’s a little morbid (that’s the Walking Dead-head of me talking), but I can appreciate the 3-dimensionality of the nose-to-tail-to-bone ethos.

21) Berkshire pork with grapes and apricot fig pudding

This was my dad and brother’s girlfriend’s favorite. Meat! Crispy pork skin! Perfectly distributed fat! But by this point, we were kinda trained to expect (and enjoy) vegetables (hot dog field trip notwithstanding). My favorite parts of the dish were the grapes, mixed with that sweet and irony blood pudding.

22) Barber Farm sourdough with cow butter, lard, and fennel salt

Thick and chewy and a tiny bit rubbery, in a good way. Both spreads were great. If they served the bread course at the beginning of the meal, people would most certainly gorge on it and spoil their appetite for the rest of the meal.

23) Tromboncino squash, beet bolognese, Malabar spinach

Here we got a bit of the Blue Hill at Stone Barns manifesto. This is the tromboncino squash. Though it grows abundantly, people rarely eat it and many regard it as purely ornamental. But at Blue Hill, a plentiful vegetable like this becomes the centerpiece while something that is not so plentiful (meat) is used more as a condiment.

I think this was cooked sous-vide. It had a flavorful density, almost like asparagus.

24) Honey and barley cake with almond blossom tea

Light and malty. Might look like a cheesecake, but it was much airier. If the tea looks like hot water, that's because it practically was. It had a very ephemeral quality to it, a breeze from the herb garden and then it's gone.

25) Blueberries, milky oats, chestnut

A crowd-pleaser, with a pb&j vibe (note all the cozy references in this meal: bagels, cheez-its, pizza, hot dogs and beer). I liked how this wasn’t a sugar/fat bomb. The sweet side of breakfast. The nourishing side of dessert.  

26) Zucchini cake

Not your typical Z-cake. This was moist inside, like a custardy bread pudding, which leads me to believe that the zucchini was pureed and used as you would eggs, oil or milk. Then with the stiff golden crust, this was almost like a green cannele (hey if you can have a green smoothie, why not?).

Also, only upon writing this post did I realize that we had four zucchini courses. But they never felt redundant or overkill or that we were paying for garden offloading.

27) Sunflower praline with whole grain shortbread

The obvious praline accompaniment would have been chocolate. But here, the biscuits are barely sweet, earthy and gritty against the roof of your mouth.

28) Chocolate mints 

With fresh mint embedded, reminiscent of Stone Barns’ beautiful bread plates with leaves and wheat stems pressed into the clay. (sorry don’t have a great pic of this)

29) Grapes - Jupiter, Canadise, Himrod (?)  

Probably not a coincidence that this mimicked the first baby vegetables course. You pluck a very local product. Your senses are heightened -- what’s the difference between these grapes? How do their skins slip off? This one is more oblong, this is more spherical.

But unlike the first course, this hasn’t been touched by a chef. It’s like when Broadway actors take their bows, then point to the orchestra, the crew, the audience: the components that make the show what it is. In this case, we taste, simply, the ingredient.

CONCLUSION

At Jean-Georges you’ll get sparkling finesse. At Daniel, French precision. At Le Bernadin, a Zen-like meditation on seafood and the things that effortlessly fall into its orbit. Ko has its explosive flavors and textures. Alinea, wizardry.

But at Blue Hill at Stone Barns, you get a bucolic theater--from the cows at the entrance to the bone candle votives to a meal that is at once challenging and simple. And maybe that’s the point: elevating and sharpening the pleasures of the farm, while also dampening the chef’s urge to manipulate.