Our Italian Vacation Part 1: Rome

I adore Rome. Where else you can encounter ancient ruins down the street from the Missoni store, a celebrity pizzaiolo in the shadow of the Vatican, and casual beauty where even the neighborhood convenience store drips with jasmine vines?

We came to Italy to celebrate a friend’s wedding on the Amalfi Coast (more on that later), but first we had to spend a couple days in the Eternal City. 

This was my third time in Rome and D’s first, so our two day/ two night stay included a full sweep of all the major sites, some quieter neighborhood spots, plus lots of time for wandering. 

If you have two days, I’d recommend a combination of these three groups.

GROUP 1: The Biggies - Colosseum, Roman Forum/Palatine Hill, Pantheon, Trevi Fountain, Vatican. These are must-see destinations for the first-timer. Warning: there will be LINES, particularly at the Vatican and Colosseum. 

GROUP 2: The On-the-Ways - Piazza Navona, Spanish Steps, Villa Borghese. These are also special, but if you’re short on time, you can probably do without. Chances are, you’ll be in those neighborhoods anyway, so you can stop by. 

GROUP 3: The Wanderables - My favorite part of any trip: discovering where locals really live, work, and of course--eat. Trastevere is boho yet refined, a neighborhood that twinkles with charm. Testaccio is laid-back and home to satisfying, unpretentious restaurants. And Prati! What it lacks in elegance, it makes up for in the best pizza on the planet. 

Here are some picks from Group 3.

Mercato di Campagna Amica Circo Massimo

Rome is not as compact as NYC, but you really should walk everywhere because there are surprises around every corner. Case in point: this buzzing farmer's market just down the street from our hotel. That porchetta was our first bite in Rome and it was just what we needed to awaken our airport-dulled appetites.

Beyond the Iced Coffee

Yes, I know all about your nitro coffee and cold brew. But when it's hot, the Italians know where it's at. I first fell in love with the shakerato in 2009, when I was in Puglia for a spell. I've since ordered it at every top Italian coffee shop in NYC (Eataly, Tarallucci e Vino, and... Blue Bottle) and no one gets close. A shakerato **must** be foamy on top. Don't ask me how it works -- the ingredients are only ice, espresso, and simple syrup -- but it's magic, like a hyper caffeinated root beer float. Shakerato above is from Sant'Eustachio. 

And I know you're in Italy for the gelato ... I get it! But save room for another creamy cold treat: the granita. Consider: icy shards of espresso, scoops of barely-sweetened cream, and a generous drizzle of chocolate. Like all Italian coffee, you don't take this to-go. You stop and enjoy it. Granita above is from Bar del Cappuccino. 

Flavio al Velavevodetto

I almost never repeat anything. Books, movies, restaurants, recipes. Life is too short, the list of options is long. Why dwell on one thing? Well, for one, because some things are really, really good. 

We loved Flavio al Velavevodetto the first night. The food wasn't anything we hadn't seen before -- caponata, zucchini with mint and garlic, ricotta ravioli, meatballs -- and yet each dish was dialed into a different, more delicious register. The ravioli dough was daringly al dente, the ricotta wet and milky, the tomatoes somehow deep and bright and sweet all at once. Flavio has been a foodie fav ever since Carlo Petrini, the founder of the Slow Food Movement, sang its praises. 

And so I buried my FOMO and went to the same place for dinner, two nights in a row. 

Reader, it was worth it. (Shown above: roasted padrón peppers, escarole with capers and raisins, fettuccine with green beans, pesto and potatoes, beef rollatini, tiramisu) 

Bonci Pizzarium

But man cannot live on vegetables, pasta, and espresso alone. There must be pizza. 

I first learned about Pizzarium from my friend Pam Yung, who did a pop-up collab with Bonci just one week before my trip. Pam is a breadmaking goddess who has earned well-deserved acclaim for her desserts and bread program at her restaurant, Semilla. Her partner (in life and business) José Ramírez-Ruiz is a vegetable-whisperer. Any place that hosts these two is a place I'm sure to like. 

And boy, did I. 

Pizza is a multi-faceted thing. And I am but one small person in a giant universe. But from my POV, this is the best pizza in the world. 

Gabriele Bonci uses natural sourdough starters (one that dates back to WWI), resulting in the platonic ideal of pizza crust. I always thought I liked thin crust, but what's infinitely better is a crust of medium height, airy and elastic inside and crackling and crisp on the bottom. Imagine the lift and depth of a sourdough, the crunch of a cracker, and the savory je ne sais quoi of a baguette. 

And that's just the dough. 

Pizzarium serves up to 20 different flavor combinations a day. Lucky for you, the pizza is al taglio, or by the kilo. You can sample a little sliver of tomato, sweet onion and Pecorino ... or squash blossoms and ricotta ... or tiles of potato ... or tuna and arugula ... or broccolini and mortadella ... or ...

I overheard one woman say, "I could die here." Same, sister.

And, oh yeah!

There's another reason I was in Italy -- I have a book coming out this week! (same book, different language). Check it out here. Vita Segreta di Una Gourmet hits stores June 23.

Next up... part two of our vacation ... the Amalfi Coast. (sneak peeks on my Instagram) 

At a Glance

Where to stay:
Kolbe Hotel
I picked this hotel because it was sandwiched between the Colosseum (touristy), Palatine Hill (serene) and Testaccio (neighborhoody). The airy, spacious hotel is in a former convent, and like many things in Rome, is a pleasing blend of new and old. 
Via di S. Teodoro, 48, 00186 Roma, Italy

Where to eat:
Flavio al Velavevodetto
Via di Monte Testaccio, 97, 00153 Roma, Italy

Bonci Pizzarium
Via della Meloria 43, 00136 Rome, Italy

Frigidarium (gelato)
Via del Governo Vecchio, 112, 00186 Roma, Italy

Where to caffeinate: 
Sant'Eustacchio 
Piazza Sant'Eustachio 82, 00186 Rome, Italy
Yes, I know this place is touristy, but it only got that way because the coffee is so good

Bar del Cappuccino
Via Arenula, 50, 00186 Rome, Italy
Totally unassuming (even ugly), but serves a memorable, perfect cappuccino

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.    

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.

Our Aruba Vacation

We've been back for almost a week but I'm only getting my head on straight now. There was the epic unpacking/laundry, catching up on life obligations and book stuff (some awesome new blurbs and press clips here), and everything related to the engagement -- seeing friends/family, insuring the ring. It doesn't help that we're in the lazy days of late August -- not exactly the most productive time for anyone. 

But I've loved spending spare moments processing our vacation pics and designing an album for ourselves and our families (I've used Blurb for years and love it). Here are some pics from -- apologies for being sappy -- the best vacation ever. 

We stayed at the Ritz-Carlton, so come on, what's not to like? The hotel is the farthest north on the hotel strip, so it's quieter and cleaner. There are no passers-through, no annoying pop music, just the sound of the water and birds. (If you look carefully at that photo, you'll see I have a huge bruise on my left shin. We went windsurfing and apparently I have an aggressive way of mounting the board). 

When D and I go on vacation, we try to find a place that has a blend of relaxation, nature, and athleticism. There was plenty of pampering at the hotel, on the beach, and at beachside restaurants where we ODed on seafood. But we also paddleboarded, windsurfed for three hours, hiked in Arikok National Park, and went snorkeling. Next time we have to do landsailing and mountain biking. 

We snorkeled with Aruba Bob, who has the most impressive Trip Advisor profile I've ever seen.

I did standup paddleboard yoga with Rachel Brathen's (aka @yoga_girl) Island SUP.

Our hike was spectacular, but in the moment it was a bit harrowing. We embarked on a 45-minute trail to the Natural Pool, and three people stopped and warned us. It was 95 degrees, with no shade, nearly all uphill. But we wanted to do it (we had enough water and we had done something similar in the Everglades in August -- we could handle it). But we got lost and that 45-minute hike turned into a 2 hour one. See the jeeps in the top left corner of that pic? That's where we wanted to go. Once we realized we were lost, we just went to the water and walked along the coast. It was exhilarating beside that wildness, waves of immense force crashing over a moon-like terrain. But once we got to the Natural Pool... we hitched a ride on a Jeep. 

You might think of a Caribbean island is lush, but Aruba is semi-tropical, with many deserts. There were far more cacti than palm trees. 

We also saw a fair amount of wildlife. Here's what the locals call "a free pedicure". 

Here are bats in Quadirikiri Cave in Arikok. Legend has it that the tribe leader locked his beautiful daughter in here when she fell in love with a foreigner. Her spirit escaped through the holes in the ceiling so she could return to her lover. 

We went to the spectacular Butterfly Farm where we saw hundreds of butterflies and moths. This mini-documentary gives a great tour of the space + poses some thought-provoking questions about life and consciousness (a chrysalis is basically a vessel of genetic goo that forms into a totally different being). 

We also saw ton of blue lizards, land crabs, pelicans, and hawks. We spotted two hummingbirds but alas they are impossible to photograph.

Mountain goats roam the streets (we even saw a goat skeleton while hiking... at least we think it was a goat?). Those are some tough goats because they forage inside prickly cactus patches. 

I shamelessly drank numerous blue drinks because Curacao is just next door to Aruba. This was Breaking Bad inspired. 

Towards the end of vacation, we kept saying, we wished we could stay just a little bit longer. And we did! 

We arrived at the airport only to be told that all flights in and out had been canceled because of a software malfunction. We booked another night and went back to the beach. Can you tell I'm really happy?? 

And, finally, let's talk FOOD. The first couple days, we stayed around the hotels while also thinking how we'd be able to manage eating at restaurants where the main courses started at $38 (seriously... that's for the chicken breast or pasta). But once we ventured out a bit, the food was not only more affordable, but also much tastier. Some recs: 

Flying Fishbone - For dinner on/in the beach. The closest row is in the water -- so far in that it'll reach your upper-mid calf. We sat in row 2.5... close enough to see the flying fish in the water, far enough that the sand under our feet was dry. Had a delicious unicorn fish and Baked Alaska here. 

Pelican Nest Seafood Grill - Straight-forward, deliciously prepared seafood. The entrance is in the thick of the touristy hotel area, but the actual restaurant feels more low-key because its out on a pier. Like Flying Fishbone, the name of the restaurant is literal. Expect pelican sightings. 

Madame Janette - A spot for locals and tourists alike. This restaurant is inland, away from the hotels and water sport kiosks. It also showcases the diversity of Aruban cuisine: local seafood, Dutch classics, Argentinean steak, and of course, blue drinks. 

And for more casual spots: 

Garden Fresh Cafe - Sometimes during vacation eating, you just want a SALAD. This hit the spot more than any 4-star meals could. We also went for breakfast, where I had my first (!) acai bowl. 

Gari & Wasabi - "Japanese Caribbean fusion." But I think their most interesting menu item was DEEP-FRIED sushi! I know this sounds terribly déclassé (and it is), but it was quite interesting and delicious. Mine had salmon, crab scallions, eel, avocado, and nori. 

And so ends Summer Vacation 2015. Ready to get down to business (in two weeks).