Pot Roast... And the meatless version

I probably shouldn't confess this, but about 7 months ago I decided to stop eating a lot of things I used to love of the meat, dairy, and egg pursuasion.  I do still eat them on the rare occasion, but my diet borders more on pseudo-vegetarianism these days.  But nothing is off limits in the kitchen because it seeems unfair to force my habits on Le Cuillère.  That and as a culinary enthusiast, I like to keep my skills sharp. 

So often times for dinner I'm coming up with his and her riffs on a theme.  The weather is turning cold, so it's time to start making all that delicious comfort food. For Le Cuillère I decided on a pot roast.  But what about me???  I want something heavy and saucey too!!  So I came up with my own "roast" using portabellas and it worked like a charm.  

I don't cook by receipes, I cook by gut feel and intuition.  So I renamed this section since you'll never get a proper recipe out of me.  But I can give you the gist, and  if you're interested in experimenting along with me, give this a go:

For him:

I took a small 1.5lb top round and seared it on all sides in olive oil.  I removed it to the side and added garlic and onions.  Once sweated, I deglazed the pan with some Syrah and tomato paste, added some home made veal stock and a can of diced tomato and placed it into a 325 oven.  I let it go for about an hour, rotating twice.  At the one hour mark, I added carrots, green pepers, celery, crimini mushrooms, sea salt and pepper, and roasted for another hour. I then pulled it out, removed the meat, and reduced the sauce just a tad.

For her:

I sauteed shallots and garlic in truffle oil.  Once brown, I added sliced portabello mushrooms and cooked til soft.  I deglazed with tomato paste and Syrah, then added 1/2 a can diced tomatoes and vegetable broth.  I seasoned with sea salt and pepper and cooked to a sauce like consistency. 

For both:

I then made some mashed potatoes with a little bit of chopped truffle and topped the potatoes with each of our respective roasts.  On the side... sauteed Swiss Chard.  To make, saute garlic and shallot in olive oil.  Add stems from the card, cook til soft.  Add the leaves, then a little vegetable broth.  Continue til cooked through.  Season with sea salt and crushed red pepper.

Washington DC: Roof Top Terrace

Everything is a cost benefit analysis. Sometimes its time versus money. Other times its quality versus convenience. But in any give and take, you must determine where your priorities lie, and proceed accordingly.

This is a cautionary tale.

As all theater-goers know, the meal is tricky business. Do you eat an early dinner before the show, or hold out til after the performance? Do you go somewhere around the corner, or hit a perennial favorite along the way?

Prior to a recent outing at the Kennedy Center, Le Cuillère and I opted to try the theater's RoofTop Terrace restaurant. For a 7:30 curtain call it seemed to be a good option: we could ensure arrival at the theater in plenty of time and since we didn't have to travel between two locations, we didn't have to eat at 5:00. The menu looked good. What could possibly go wrong??

The evening started out well; we each ordered a martini with Hendrick's while perusing the menu. The server asked our curtain time to ensure we'd make the show. The drinks arrived, a little on the toxically strong side, but I do accept that the martini is a fickle beast. We place our orders: Le Cuillère selecting the artisan cheese and the seared scallops while I opted for the french onion soup and olive oil poached sturgeon.

The appetizers arrived on time and without incident. The soup was well done, piping hot and heavy on the onions. The cheese, though billed as artisan, was less so; Le Cuillere likened it to calling a kindergarten student's art project - while mom might be glowingly proud, it was definitely a beginner effort. Our plates were cleared and then we proceeded to wait nearly 45 minutes for our entrees to manifest themselves. Tables who arrived after we were seated were already eating. Finally, the plates arrived. My sturgeon was perfectly poached. Poaching in olive oil is not easy; to get the texture right the oil must be hot enough to cook the fish but not hot enough to fry it. Its a delicate balance, but when done right renders a moist and succulent fish without a trace of grease. Accompanied by Beet-Potato Puree and Braised Savoy Cabbage it was a lovely and well executed dish. Le Cuillère was not so lucky. His scallops arrived bone cold and rubbery. The delay in receiving the dishes left no time for the server to bring a new dish.

Now this can easily be a one off experience. However the table of women seated next to us indicated that it was a typical occurrence. One woman had ordered the scallops (which also arrived cold) while the other ordered the sturgeon but was served the salmon. They told me they had been coming there for years, and always experienced problems. Rather stunned I asked why then they continued to eat there. Convenience was the reply.

The server sent over the manager who apologized and offered to comp the food portion of the meal. When the check came however, this had not been done. When the manager came back, she apologized and waived the fee for the meal.

While I greatly appreciated the gesture, at the end of the day I would prefer to pay for quality food and service rather than undermine the evening with a less than satisfactory experience. I can tell you for my part, I won't be going back. There are too many other much better options, even if they require a bit of inconvenience. Life is too short to be anything less than happy with your food.

Manhattan: Le Veau D'or

Most people have their favorite go-to television show.  It's not something that you plan your life around, but when you're looking to fill about 46 minutes of your day, it's what you put on.  For me, that program is Bourdain's “No Reservations”.  It combines my two great loves of travel and food, and requires essentially no commitment from me.  There is no character development; no plot twists.  It's the perfect single serving entertainment.  So my DVR is perpetually filled with the 15 most recent episodes ready and waiting for the moment I'm looking for some sort of distraction.  I am fortunate that my traveling partner and sometime fellow gastronaut "Le Cuillère," (hey, he needed a nom de plume too!) encourages and sometimes participates in this habit.


One episode entitled “Disappearing Manhattan” features those quintessential New York establishments which over time have gradually fallen off the Manhattan landscape. One such place is Le Veau D'or on the Upper East Side.  Once a common fixture throughout New York, locations like Le Veau D'or and their classic french cuisine have been largely replaced by more modern eateries boasting ever more impressive culinary techniques.  From the description during the episode, we were both intrigued. So on our most recent trip, we made it a point to visit.


In a era defined by technology, Le Veau D'or maintains a low profile.  The restaurant is inconspicuously located on E 60th, a small brass plaque the only marquee.  There is no website to consult; you cannot make reservations on Open Table.  One simply must show up and hope for the best, or call ahead if feeling overly ambitious.  Since it was a midweek night, we elected to take our chances.


Walking through the front door is much like stepping back into an age where going to a restaurant was the height of sophistication vice a common place activity because most of us are more often than not too lazy to cook.  I felt almost at a loss without my fur wrap, sting of pearls, and cigarette holder.  Yet while classic in the best sense of the word, Le Veau D'or isn't pretentious.  Upon our arrival we were greeted warmly by a charming woman, whom we knew from the Bourdain episode was the owner's daughter and oversaw the day to day operations.  The owner himself, a very well dressed elderly gentleman, was stationed at a table by the door and you had the sense if he didn't like the looks of you he'd immediately toss you out on your ear.  We must have passed the inspection however, as we were shown to a cozy booth in the back corner.


I suspect our waiter actually may have started when the restaurant opened in the 1930's...and he too was entirely in keeping with the classic French motif, dressed in a tuxedo and focused on the details.  The menu is presented as a three course offering with a choice of appetizer, main course, and dessert.  The options covered most of the major contributions of French cuisine, including dishes you are unlikely to even find on a menu these days.


We started with a bottle of 2008 St Georges from Saint Emillion while reviewing the menu.  After significant weighing of possible menu permutations,  Le Cuillère decided upon the escargot followed by the duck breast in cherry sauce.  I selected the chilled artichoke with vinaigrette and the small roasted chicken in wine and mushroom sauce.


The appetizers appeared with refreshingly little fanfare, and presented simply; Le Veau D'or clearly prefers to let the dishes speak for themselves.  The escargot, heralded its arrival in advance with the unmistakable and positively intoxicating smell of butter and roasted garlic.  The little snails were themselves perfectly cooked, shelled, and as Le Cuillère described it, snorkeling in the sauce.  They weren't drowning, but were definitely in over their heads!  I love artichokes, but they are an unholy pain in the butt to prepare, and I almost never do.  So I was practically giddy when presented with a perfectly steamed and chilled specimen,  tender and complete with lemon vinaigrette for dipping the petals.


Following a perfectly respectable amount of time, the entrees appeared (Side note.... this is a personal pet peeve of mine, and something that I find can enhance or utterly ruin a meal.  I do not want feel as though I'm participating in a Man v. Food challenge.  At the same time, I don't want to be sitting there for an indeterminate amount of time wondering if perhaps I'll be served the next course for breakfast).  Le Veau D'or got it just right. The duck arrived plated on a bed of pilaf with the cherry sauce on the side.  The chicken made its appearance on a cutting board, whereby the waiter proceeded to carve it table side, presenting the dissembled bird with the pan sauce of mushrooms, bacon and onions along side a potato dauphin.  We both received a spinach puree on the side.   Le Cuillère found the duck to be perfectly cooked and was most impressed with the subtly of the cherry sauce which paired with the meat without being cloying or syrupy.  The chicken was also a delight, the components of the sauce infused into the meat and were evident in every bite.  Even the sides, which could easily have been an after thought, were well prepared and thoughtfully matched to the dishes.


The dessert menu contained many of the classic favorites. I selected an apple tart, while  Le Cuillère elected to be bold and order the “Oeufs en la Neige”.  Literally meaning “eggs in the snow” the dish was described as a “floating island”.  Beyond that, there was little to indicate what that might possibly mean, but  Le Cuillère, culinary Ponce De Leon he views himself to be when challenged, was undeterred.  What appeared was a slab of toasted meringue in a pool of  crème anglais with a hidden layer of caramel to create an added flavor dimension.   Le Cuillère was pleased with the results of his gamble, evinced by his delighted smile and immediate insistence I try a sample.  As for my admittedly safe choice, the tart was executed with remarkable precision.  The apple was sliced wafer thin and layered across the puff pastry to ensure the perfect balance of fruit and crust.  Capped off with espresso, it was a truly wonderful meal.


There were many aspects of the place which could be taken as kitsch, and I have no doubt there are a great many self proclaimed foodies who would deride Le Veau D'or's decision to cling to tradition.  But tradition isn't a bad thing if its producing good food in a comfortable setting.  In a world where chefs are striving to come up with the next big thing and food can look less like food and more like a chemistry experiment, it's somewhat reassuring that places like Le Veau D'or remain to remind us of our culinary roots.