Restaurant Beat: Sarasota

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ou know that jaded New York diner’s query: "So, what do we eat tonight—Chinese, Italian, or Mexican?" Well, in Sarasota, where we can’t seriously consider Chinese, we’re happy to report that we can consider Peruvian.

What follows is the first installment of our review of Red, an upscale Peruvian restaurant on Hillview Street’s "restaurant row." We’ve taken this unorthodox approach to sharpen our minds and taste buds, to better focus on just a few dishes and unusual wines.

For openers, we limited ourselves to a few representative appetizers paired with wines we’d asked our server to select. Arriving on each table as soon as diners are seated is a tiny bowl of toasted maíz patazca—huge kernels of roasted and salted Peruvian corn. This is accompanied by a pale green sauce of chiles, garlic, and mayonnaise. Our server told us that this was a dipping sauce for the corn, but confided that he puts it "on everything."

As we waited for our first course, we struck up an easy conversation with the couple at the next table. They were indeed satisfied diners, happy to tell us about their Lomo Saltado, beef tenderloin with tomatoes and rice, and Tacu Tacu con Lomo Saltado, the same tenderloin served with a rice and bean cake, which they pronounced "fantastic." They went on to tell us they’d already booked a table for six for the following evening so they could bring their foodie friends and family, in town from L. A.

Red’s wine list is eclectic, filled with bottles and wines by-the-glass you won’t find on most lists. Our aperitivo, Cakebread Cellars’ crisp Sauvignon Blanc, was a great way to begin our exploration. A Chilean Pinot Noir, Tierra del Fuego 2004 complemented our appetizer, Camarones al Ajillo. Six tail-on shrimp (and at least three cloves of sliced garlic) filled a small ramekin. Slices of crusty bread and sticks of perfectly deep–fried yucca were good vehicles for the sauce of butter and crema, the Latin American version of crème fraiche.

Our second course was Aji de Gallina, which the menu described as "Peruvian-style shredded chicken in a creamy yellow pepper sauce." Nice understatement. Here, 'yellow pepper' is aji amarillo, ever-present in Peruvian cuisine. It adds mild heat, floral sweetness, and most notably, a clear yellow color to sauces. But aji, a great enhancer of poultry, was just one element in our unctuously rich chicken salad. Garnished with parsley and hard-boiled eggs, the deceptively simple and delicious salad was served warm, on a bed of leaf-lettuce and chunks of boiled potato. With the salad, we enjoyed another Tierra del Fuego offering, a velvety, smokey Chilean merlot (2003).

The prospect of a little late-night street-food, Anticuchos—grilled, marinated beef heart—was irresistible. Red’s version is an uptown presentation of a decidedly downtown snack. Two skewers of vinegar-herb marinated meat were tender and juicy, served with a mild aji dipping sauce and steamed white Peruvian corn kernels. The cabernet sauvignon (Tierra del Fuego 2003) is a decidedly uptown wine, but perfect with this dish.

Red’s chef/owner, Jorge Corzo, has created an imaginative menu, full of personal refinements yet faithful to his Peruvian heritage. Our anticucho (indeed every dish we saw) was elegantly presented on simple stylish white china more reminiscent of a sushi bar. Could this be a nod to Peru’s large Japanese population? Most of us forget that Latin America is as multi-ethnic as the U.S. Peru’s cuisine certainly reflects this, but in quite subtle ways that we look forward to exploring in our next installment…

Red
1960 Hillview Street
Sarasota, Fl 34239
941.954.6956

Technorati Tags: Red restaurant, Sarasota, Peruvian food, Skip Lombardi

Grilled Pizza

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hances are you’ve not recently juxtaposed the words "George Foreman grill" and "fine dining." Well, now you can: it turns out that the George Foreman outdoor pedestal grill is great for making an impromptu pizza.

It is indeed reasonable to ask what a couple of unabashed foodies are doing with a George Foreman grill (henceforth, GFG). We’ve all seen the same infomercials featuring a couple of bad-guy burgers oozing fat into the "convenient drip-pan". The voice-over says something like "And that used to go into our bodies?"

The grill was Fatima’s find. Passing a yard sale late in the day, she spied the grill—nearly-new and priced to move, as in "move it and it’s yours." So, the price was right, and we thought we could have some fun.

For starters, we’d tried it with some chicken wings, and found the GFG lacking in the intense heat generated by hardwood charcoal in a Weber grill. We hadn’t quite dismissed GFG as a toy, but we hadn’t given it further thought when we had a rib eye or New York strip in mind for dinner.

But here in Sarasota, we think outside the box, outside the kitchen, and indeed, simply outside—like, on the patio. The keys to grilling pizza are having all the toppings ready, and moving fast when the dough hits the grill. For the latter task, the more deliberate, even heat of the GFG seemed ideal. It also didn’t hurt that the grilling surface is twenty inches in diameter; large enough to accommodate a less-than-dead-center placement of the dough at cooking time.

Al Forno, in Providence, RI, put grilled pizzas on the American culinary map about twenty-five years ago, but they’ve been on the Italian culinary map a while longer. It turns out that my brethren in northwestern Tuscany have been making a grilled flatbread called piadina since around 1200 A.D. Carry on the tradition: If you have a flat rooftop, balcony, or merely a driveway, join the confederation of those able to cook outdoors. Celebrate this fraternity with grilled pizza, the ideal spur-of-the moment meal.

For this spur-of-the moment meal, the fridge offered some sour cream, a few ounces of Ducktrap River Farm smoked salmon, and a bunch of watercress. Fatima had made some sourdough the day before. Having been punched down a couple of times, the dough was ready to become crust. (I could have easily walked two blocks to the supermarket for ready-made pizza dough, but Fatima’s was perfuming the sun-room, crying out to be used.)

It seemed ironic to be cooking a pizza as refined as this on a grill as pedestrian as the George Foreman. In a way, it was like wearing orange high-top sneakers with an Armani suit. But we already suspected that this would be a great utensil to achieve a celestial pie.

As I noted, GFG won’t get as hot as hardwood charcoal, but the heat is even across the entire cooking surface. Thus, we could take our time crisping the bottom crust while we hovered over the grill, popping bubbles in the dough as they appeared.

When we had flipped the dough, we brushed on a little olive oil, added the salmon, dollops of sour cream and wilted watercress (microwaved for about 90 seconds). It was an easy task, then, to keep a close eye on the cooking and to position the pie without burning our fingers.

With crust crisp on both sides, yet chewy in the center, the pizza was wonderful. The salmon was slightly warm, the sour cream just starting to run. Would we do this again? Absolutely.

Could we give a second wind to the GFG? Would the manufacturer give us the Electroculinary equivalent of the Legion d’Honneur? Or at least put us on a retainer?

Alas, it seems clear that Mr. Foreman has done quite well without our endorsement. So even if cardiologists would rather laud the GFG for sparing arteries excess burger fat, we shall sing its praises for pizza.

Technorati Tags: Grilled Pizza, George Foreman grill, Sarasota,

Free Lunch?

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ver since I moved to Sarasota, I've been hearing a joke that goes something like this: "All the old people live in Sarasota…. (beat)….. and their parents live in Venice."

Whether that's true or not, the numerous opportunities to enjoy an “early bird special” do suggest something about the bedtimes of a large segment of Sarasota’s dining-out population. And although I don’t think of myself as one of those early birds, it was not long ago that the AARP wished me “Happy Birthday.” The snail-mail invitations for no-obligation investment consultations started arriving shortly thereafter.

The financial advisors who really want your IRA and 401K funds are competitive, very competitive. A savvy advisor knows that it takes more than his corporate parent sponsoring a PBS broadcast on the spotted owl to lure clients into his tastefully appointed sanctum.

So, as they look at their working-girl mutual fund portfolios in need of new strategies, my friend Fatima and her circle don’t feel the least bit abashed accepting a few of the many dining invitations extended by investment firms. And in Sarasota’s lively winter season, these invitations are clearly the bait of choice.

The lure of lunch or dinner at one of Sarasota's A-List restaurants can easily outweigh one’s reluctance to be part of the gracious audience at an investment seminar-- even when one is asked to show up for dinner at 3:45….

Fatima and I recently attended one such "seminar." The presenter, our dapper host, whom I’ll call Larry, had a PowerPoint presentation and patter that might have been better suited to selling resort time-shares (and indeed he made a joke about time-shares). Larry made a lot of jokes—starting with, “Ok, how many of your came to this thing for the food?” A few guys just off the golf course raised their hands.

But business is business, and Larry got right down to the equities market, its inherent uncertainties and what he and his team could do to “lock in gains.” Larry dressed as if he’d locked in quite a few gains himself, an ample waistline hardly detracting from his crisp Euro-blue shirt, the sort I’ve always wanted—with the white collar and cuffs. Fatima reminded me that I should continue to maintain my literary integrity and dress like an English-major: that is, stick with the L.L. Bean oxford button downs I’ve been wearing since high school.

I found it easier to swallow actuarial tables and hedging strategies than the fact that someone selling annuities, had not double-checked the pronunciations of certain key words: With absolutely no irony, Larry spoke of need to be “vil-uh-gent” so as to guarantee returns to one’s bene-foo-ciaries.

Meanwhile, two waiters had begun to pour generous glasses of either Babcock Cabernet Sauvignon, or Los Alamos Chardonnay to an audience of forty in the restaurant’s private dining room.. At the same time, Fatima and I passed notes back and forth about whether one of the four single women at our table might be a shill for the firm.

I can happily report that our concern about a shill in our midst was unfounded, and that our food—served after roughly 80 minutes of “pitch”—was excellent. Larry was keeping his side of the bargain.

The restaurant had offered five choices, drawn directly from their evening dinner menu (one poultry, two fish, and two red meat dishes). The platings were attractive, but we agreed that sides and garnishes would have been more elaborate at a prime-time 8:00 seating.

My braised lamb shank was enormous—tender, juicy, and falling from the bone. Fatima's red snapper, accompanied by a chunky fresh chutney, was delicious. One of our table-mates pronounced her filet mignon appropriately well-seared and rare in the center.

The single dessert offered came as soon as each guest’s main-course plate had been cleared, a reminder that the waiters would soon be needed in a higher hospitality mode in the main dining room. The homey apple crisp with cranberries, and walnuts was very good but would have benefited from a warmed sauce or a small amount of ice cream. (Indeed, it is offered à la mode on the printed menu.)

Continuing to note potential differences from the 8:00 seating, we couldn't help notice that our coffee, an excellent brew poured from small air-pots at the table, went into cups that had arrived without their saucers. Our slightly distracted server seemed to have a small problem distinguishing the decaf from regular. At a function like this, the waiters know that their gratuity will come from the host, not the diners they serve. Consequently, there is little need for them to hover or utter the perfunctory, “How is your meal, sir.?” Even as reviewers, we can’t say that we had a sense of evening service style. This was, after all, the proverbial free lunch.

You might well ask if I have the temerity to rate a restaurant on the basis of a banquet-service meal. The unequivocal answer is no. What we experienced was very good food, but not all the components that create the ambience a fine restaurant seeks to project. The buzz of a successful restaurant with competent staff and a clientele anticipating pleasure are among the intangibles that contribute to memorable meals.

On balance, I think our meal trumped the presentation, and I would willingly consider annuities and IRA-rollover plans again. And the next time, a presenter suggests "getting into equities," I'll be able to ask if he'd recommend that I hedge my portfolio by purchasing a "corresponding put." More importantly, I’d be willing to return to this restaurant and give it a legitimate review.

Technorati Tags: Sarasota, Free Lunch, Skip Lombardi.

Zuppa di Lenticchie

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e've been having a cold snap here in Sarasota, with the temperature dropping into the fifties during the day. I understand that to my brethren, say, north of the Mason-Dixon line, temperatures in the fifties may not exactly constitute a cold snap at this time of year. But here in this neighborhood, it makes the case for the "thinning blood" theory.


Some local hands have made the claim that blood thins in warm climates, and those of us who live here have therefore become more sensitive to cool temperatures. I'm not seeing a lot of science involved in this reasoning, but I can say that three or four weeks ago, I'd be wearing a polo shirt if the temperature went into the fifties in Connecticut.

No matter, though, the temperature favored a comforting meal. One such comfort food—for me anyway—has always been lentils.

Italian lore says that if you eat lentils on New Year's Day, you'll have good luck all year long. I feel pretty lucky, though, any time I eat lentils.

And certainly one of the most comforting elements of this dish is that it goes from stove to table in approximately half an hour.

Zuppa di Lenticchie
Lentil Soup

Ingredients:

1 Clove garlic, peeled, and coarsely chopped
1 Medium onion, peeled, and quartered
1 Medium carrot, peeled, and coarsely chopped
1 Medium stalk celery, washed, and coarsely chopped
1/4 Cup flat-leaf Italian parsley, chopped
1/4 Lb. Pancetta, chopped
Olive oil
1 Lb. Dried lentils, washed, and picked over
Salt & freshly-ground black pepper
1/2 tsp. Dried red pepper flakes
Juice of 1/2 Lemon, OR 2 Tbs. red wine vinegar

Preparation:

Place the garlic, onion, carrot, celery, parsley, and pancetta in a Cuisinart, and pulse ten times for approximately one second per pulse.

Heat enough olive oil to cover the bottom of a 3 quart saucepan over medium heat, then add the chopped vegetable mixture. Lower the heat and sauté, stirring occasionally, until the batutto, as it’s called, is quite soft; approximately 20 minutes.

Add the lentils and enough water to cover them well. Raise the heat and bring the lentils to the simmer. Skim, off any scum that rises during this time. Season with salt and pepper and the red pepper flakes.

Simmer for approximately half an hour, until the lentils are cooked through. While the lentils should not be exactly al dente, they should retain some texture. Add more water if necessary while the lentils are cooking, but note that this should be a fairly thick soup.

When the lentils are done, stir in the lemon juice or the vinegar.

Serve with Italian bread, or better still, with crostini that you've fried in olive oil.

Serves six.

(Another reason) Why I Love Sarasota

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f course wine tastings in convenience stores must happen elsewhere, but not in New England, where I've been most recently. On the surface, it must seem bizarre to think about tasting wines among aisles of Doritos, beef jerky, and lighter fluid. And my imagination certainly runs wild at the thought of what kinds of wines might be on offer for tasting.

I'm told, though, that this convenience store often carries wines from—for example—Coppola Wineries...and at a discount below retail!

Well, I may have missed this one, but I'll be watching to see if management organizes another for February. I must say, I love this town.