Napa Valley Greatest Hits

Bistro Jeanty's Tomato Soup in Puff Pastry

 It’s hard to have a bad meal in the Napa Valley and choosing between restaurants is like deciding which of your children you like best.  As there were only so many meals that could be crammed into our Napa Valley visit, alas, it wasn’t possible to revisit all my old loves and still experience the thrill of at least a couple of new places.  Luckily, the guilt pangs of my unfaithfulness were eased by the fabulous meals we shared at restaurants old and new.

This is where we ate.  One of my Napa Valley traditions is having the first meal at Tra Vigne in St. Helena.  It’s a tradition shared with my colleagues at Viking and we make it our first stop, always eating at “our” table by the bar, when we come to visit the Culinary Institute of America.  After a tiring travel day and Mississippi to California jet lag, Tra Vigne is lovely, comforting, dependable and a great way to shake off the road dust and get into the spirit of the Napa Valley.  I honored this tradition by sharing it with my six travel companions and it worked the same magic. Our favorite dishes of the night were Wood Oven Baked Fig Pizza with black mission figs, gorgonzola, arugula, and aged balsamic and another amazing starter, Mozzarella Cheese “al minuto”. The cheese is handmade at the moment ordered and placed on grilled bruschetta then drizzled with Napa Valley olive oil.  Creamy, luscious, ethereal.

 The Cindy of Cindy’s Backstreet Kitchen in St. Helena is the inimitable Cindy Pawlcyn who was and continues to be a culinary pioneer in the Napa Valley food scene.  The vibe is welcoming, casual and laid back.  The food is eccentric but familiar and always tasty.  My favorite dishes shared among our table of seven were Oysters Bingo (a take-off on Oysters Rockeller with spinach, garlic and a cheesy sauce) and the Wood Oven Duck with caramelized quince, Marsala sauce and roasted root vegetables.

There are two Michelin 3 Star restaurants in the Napa Valley and we dined at both, The French Laundry and The Restaurant at Meadowood.   A Michelin-starred chef before the age of 30, Chef Christopher Kostow earned that third Michelin star with the imaginative California he creates in this Meadowood kitchen.  Our reservation was for lunch which is served in restaurant’s Grill Room.  Among our favorite dishes were the Pea Shoot Salad and Grilled Watermelon with Watercress.

The French Laundry

Dinner at the world famous French Laundry in Yountville is a religious experience for food lovers.  Chef Thomas Keller creates the ultimate dining experience where the highest level of ingredients meet the pinnacle of culinary creativity, imagination, skill and artistry.  The table settings, atmosphere, and incomparable service combine with the other-worldly food to create an unforgettable dining experience. It is perfection on a plate and this visit – my fourth – was the most enjoyable. In reliving my night at the table, I realized that the added ingredient that elevated this particular experience was the friends around the table.  It was an unforgettable evening.

The Culinary Institute of America at Greystone is a must-stop for any food lover.  Within its historic walls, one can learn, sip, shop and savor.  Even a meal at the C.I.A.’s student-operated Wine Spectator Restaurant is a culinary lesson.  Students learn their trade by cooking in the bustling open kitchen where they interact with guests at the food bar and field the casual question from a diner.  Diners learn by experiencing the meal and through the educational wine flights accompanied by teaching points 

and wine notes.  Highlights of our meal were Today’s Temptations, a variety of shared “small plates’ artfully arranged on a table centerpiece holding all five plates…and the Duck Fat Roasted Fingerling Potatoes.  Need I say more?

Cindy Pawlcyn’s newest restaurant is Brassica, a Mediterranean Kitchen and Wine Bar, in St. Helena.  The wine bar is spectacular, serving by-the-glass wines from small vintners, and the menu is a happy combination of Mediterranean small plates – meze and tapas – and entrées that cover Southern Europe, North Africa and the Middle East.  The small plates were exactly what I was in the mood for and they were divine – especially Eggplant Fries with Za’atar and Spiced Yogurt,  Fried Zucchini Blossoms and Crispy Star Anise and Ginger Quail.

Our last meal in the Napa Valley was a serendipitous one.  We were scheduled for a lunch of burgers and garlic fries at the famous Gott’s Diner (formerly Taylor Refresher).  A departure meal at Gott’s is another of my beloved Napa Valley traditions and always hits the spot after all the fancy food and wine.  Our plans were foiled by pouring rain which made outside dining at Gott’s a cold and messy proposition.  As we rolled toward San Francisco, hungry, cranky and wedged into our mini-van with luggage piled around us I was praying for inspiration and an open table. A call to Bistro Jeanty in Yountville, one of my all time favorites and an old love I had spurned on this trip mainly because of logistics, magically yielded a table for seven.  Chef Phillipe Jeanty has created the best French Bistro on this side of the pond – a view shared by legions of loyal fans.  Shucking pretension for authenticity, it evokes the feeling of a neighborhood bistro somewhere in the Burgundy region of France.  The dish that brings me back again and again is Coq au Vin, a hearty stew of chicken, mushrooms and bacon in red wine stew.  But Jeanty’s most famous dish is Crème de Tomate en Croute, tomato soup in puff pastry.  The puff pastry presentation gives it a wow factor and breaking the crust with a spoon to savor the creamy soup is a guilty pleasure.

And so we left the Napa Valley on a culinary high note, vowing to return and do it all again.   Oh…and by the way….if the Napa Valley is not on your horizon any time soon, make Phillipe Jeanty’s famous tomato soup … and dream.

Bistro Jeanty

Cream of Tomato Soup in Puff Pastry

Serves 6

½ cup             Butter, unsalted

½ lb.              Yellow onions, sliced

6                    Garlic cloves

1                    Bay leaf

½ Tbl             Whole black peppercorns

1 tsp              Dried thyme leaves

¼ cup            Tomato paste

2 1/2 lbs        Tomatoes, ripe, cored and quartered

1 cup             Water (no more – use only if tomatoes are not ripe and juicy)

4 cups            Heavy cream

2-4 Tbl           Butter

                      Salt to taste

½ tsp             Ground white pepper

1 lb                Puff pastry or store bought sheets

1                    Egg, beaten with 1 Tbl of water     

Procedure

Melt the 1⁄2 cup butter in a large stockpot over medium-low heat. Add the onions, garlic, thyme, bay leaf and peppercorns; cover and cook for about 5 minutes. Do not let the onions color. Add tomato paste and lightly “toast” the tomato paste to cook out the raw flavor then add tomatoes, and water if needed. Simmer over low heat for 30-40 minutes, until the tomatoes and onions are very soft and broken down. 
Puree by passing through a food mill.  A food mill works best however you may use a blender in batches or a handheld immersion blender until finished, then strain. Return the soup to the pot. Add the cream, salt, white pepper and remaining butter to taste. Bring soup to a simmer then remove from heat. Allow the soup to cool for two hours or overnight in the refrigerator.

Divide the soup among six 8-ounce soup cups or bowls. Roll out the puff pastry to 1/4 inch. Cut into 6 rounds slightly larger than your cups. Paint the dough with the egg wash and turn the circles, egg wash side down, over the tops of the cups, pulling lightly on the sides to make the dough somewhat tight like a drum. Try not to allow the dough to touch the soup. These may be made up to 24 hours in advance and covered with plastic in the refrigerator.

Preheat oven to 450 degrees.

Lightly paint the top of the dough rounds with egg wash without pushing the dough down. Bake for 10-15 minutes, until the dough is golden brown. Do not open the oven in the first several minutes of cooking as the dough may fall. Serve immediately.

Once Upon A Picnic

It was a fairy tale kind of day in the Napa Valley. Only this day the fairies…like the seven of us… were sporting rain gear, a hedge against the schizoid weather gods who alternately beamed sunshine, brushed the blue horizon with black clouds, spit drizzle, gusted cold wind and sprinkled rain.  Just when we began to consider retreating indoors from the fickle elements a brilliant blue sky and warm sunshine would appear -- barely long enough to tease us before the irritable weather gods began the cycle all over again.

Not a perfect day for a picnic it would seem to less hardy and more sensible souls, but not for this intrepid group of Mississippi friends.  We had come to visit Chappellet Winery perched high on Pritchard Hill and home to some of the Napa Valley’s finest wines and undoubtedly the most beautiful vista overlooking the valley.  We intended to savor the view, the wine and the delectable picnic foods we had carefully gathered that morning. And we would not be easily deterred -- at least, not some of us.

Holding democratic elections in third world dictatorships is inherently difficult – with all that pesky vote counting.  Holding an open and free referendum on picnicking in inclement weather among seven large adults wedged into a small mini-van is equally as challenging.  There was no room for a show of hands (or feet) and voice votes were indistinguishable among shouts of “I’m cold”, “Let’s do it!”, “What if it rains again?” and “Don’t be a weenie.” Finally the van doors slid open and we are “all for one and one for all”.  A unanimous decision had been reached.  We came to picnic.

And that’s what we did.  Our friends at Chappellet provided a lovely picnic area with a gazillion dollar view of their vineyards, Lake Hennessey, and the Napa Valley– some 1200 feet below us. They even threw in a few loaner jackets to ward off the chill, wine glasses and two of their spectacular wines. We spread our feast on the wet picnic table–curried chicken salad, roasted wild mushrooms, grilled vegetables, salumi, Marcona almonds, prosciutto with figs, marinated lava beans, cornichons, caperberries, fresh-baked French bread and a couple of stellar local cheeses. We ate. We drank. We laughed. We toasted the weather gods who kept their temper tantrums rolling with an alternating mix of blue sky, warm sunshine, gusty winds and a few sprinkles of rain. Our lunch atop Pritchard Hill was a miraculous convergence of time, place, nature, food, wine and most of all – seven free-spirited, fun loving, adventurous souls.

 It was a perfect day for a picnic.  It truly was.

Tadich Grill – History on the Half Shell

It was Friday night in San Francisco.  After five glorious days of food and wine excess in the Napa Valley, it was time to clean up our act.  My companion, John, was in the mood for something simple, like a good piece of fish.  He had Tadich Grill in mind.

I was happy with his plan because it was a deep, dark professional secret that I had never been.  It’s something I wouldn’t normally admit, except under torture.  Tadich Grill isn't just the oldest restaurant in San Francisco; it's the oldest in California dating from 1849 when California wasn’t even part of the Union.  The Tadich Grill is to San Francisco and seafood as Peter Luger’s is to steak and Brooklyn.  It’s a national treasure.  Earlier in my career while I should have been eating cioppino at Tadich Grill, I was chasing ethereal dishes made by chefs with one name whose restaurants lasted about as long as a Christmas ham.  I had missed a key ingredient in my culinary education. On this night, I was hoping for redemption.

The front door to Tadich Grill opens onto a world where time seems to stand still.  Except for the presence of compact computer stations where waiters enter orders, it could be 1930 or 1950 or 2011.  The dark wood and polished brass accents give the space an old world, clubby feel. The bar and dining counter run the length of the restaurant with brass coat hooks along the wall, brass purse hooks (my favorite amenity) under the counter and stools for seating. White- clothed tables line the walls and handsome booths created by wooden panels are available for more private dining away from the din and chaos of the dining hall. Art deco light pendants add charm and a warm glow and the open kitchen, so popular in today’s restaurants, is a Tadich tradition.

Tadich Grill takes no reservations so we figured our chances of getting a table or booth on a Friday night were slim. We didn’t care and we were prepared to wait. When it comes to choosing restaurants, tables or selecting menu items, John and I are usually in harmony. Like the “Vulcan mind meld” on Star Trek or a silent dog whistle, we often communicate wordlessly when it comes to food.  At the front of the line when a prized table is offered, we look at each other.  “We’ll take the counter,” John said.  We were looking for adventure, too.

The system for dining at the counter is straightforward.  There are some 30 seats at the counter and you stand behind the diners, in hover mode, until space opens up. We didn’t hover for long and quickly discovered that just as we suspected, the counter is “the thing”, the heart and soul of the operation, and pure theatre. We were riveted by the drama taking place in front of us where white jacketed waiters dispensed crisp linen napkins, beverages, sour dough bread, bowls of lemon and menu advice.  Like dancers on a stage they exhibited a certain grace, economy of motion and constant movement as they worked their stations, a small kingdom of no more than 8-10 feet.  No motion was wasted and hands were always moving, refilling water glasses or water pitchers, wiping the counter while answering questions about the menu, wiping the drinking glasses artfully and efficiently arranged at the wait stations, and shining the flatware.  The only time a waiter left his station was to walk briskly to the open kitchen to retrieve an order.  Even Tadich’s most popular desserts, rice pudding, on the menu for over 100 years, and bread pudding, are kept in warming trays at the counter so they can be served with few motions and in only a matter of seconds.  After all, there are people hovering in the background for the next available seat.

And the food?  It’s fresh, straightforward and simply prepared using the very best ingredients. Pan-fried Sand Dabs, Rainbow Trout, Halibut Florentine, Seafood a la Monza, Clam Chowder and the best Cioppino in San Francisco as many locals are quick to tell you.  After watching a parade of plates go by, we opted for the Filet of Sole all’Agro and the Petrale Sole with a Bay Shrimp Cocktail for starters.  And of course, the rice pudding.

It was meal to remember and a night to remember -- much more entertaining than going to dinner and a show on Friday night.  Dining at the counter at Tadich Grill ….dinner IS the show. Don’t miss it!

Tadich Grill

240 California Street

San Francisco, CA 94111

(415) 391-1849

Hours: Sun Closed; Mon-Fri 11am–9:30pm; Sat 11:30am–9:30pm

Forever October

I looked at the front page of the Sunday paper this morning and of all the news in our troubled world, one string of words jumped off the page.  The date.  It’s October 23.  Where did it go?

October is my favorite month of the year.  It brings nearly perfect weather, a crisp dividing line between the steamy, muggy, endless Mississippi summer and the unpredictability of our winter.   It’s my birth month and I celebrate it till the calendar turns to November.  The fish have been biting and I have pictures to prove it. The odometer on my bicycle has clocked at least 200 miles as I’ve rolled along bike paths, parkways and country roads.  I’ve experienced the magic of the Mississippi Delta as cotton is harvested and white fluff – “Delta snow” – sprinkles the sides of the roads. I traveled to the Napa Valley with six friends, sampled world class wines and food and experienced the thrill of the grape harvest.  Our welcome to San Francisco is a story that will be told over and over again for years to come. As we crossed the Golden Gate Bridge the Navy’s precision flying squadron the Blue Angels roared overhead and performed maneuvers over San Francisco Bay.  With a former Navy admiral in our group, we were convinced this incredible display was just for us. I danced to my favorite music in New Orleans and spent a Saturday morning in the French Quarter walking along the mighty Mississippi River.  I walked along the river again, this time on the bluffs of historic Natchez, Mississippi in the shadows of live oaks and antebellum homes. And before ghosts and goblins signal the end of the month, I hope to be riding a four-wheeler on the sandbars of the Mississippi River near Rosedale with one of my dearest friends and eating hot tamales from the famous White Front café around a fire pit. 

October has been a month for full- tilt living.  It’s been a month for living out loud and no wonder I forgot to look at the calendar.  Reflection and writing and blogging will have to wait.  The cypress trees in front of my home are turning bronze, a reminder that the clock is ticking…and I’ve got to get outside and experience the last few glory days of October.  

I’m off to pedal on the historic Natchez Trace Parkway with Jackson Browne singing in my head.  I sing along with him as a plea to my favorite month of the year -- “Oh won’t you stay-ay-ay….just a little bit longer?  Please, please, please say you will.”