San Diego

My hiatus from blogging has been due in part to the 13,251 or so miles I have traveled thus far in 2011. It's a lot. Of course, the upside to the travel is always 1) going to better weather; and 2) finding new and awesome restaurants. Although I generally set expectations to "low" on my business trips, this time, I was fortunate to land mid-winter in San Diego, home to palm trees, boardwalks, the Gaslamp district, and good cuisine. Mind you, I consider In-N-Out Burger good cuisine.

Highlight No. 1: The Fish Market. Showing up with no reservations on Valentine's Day, we opted for a seat at the bar facing the kitchen, a birds eye view into all of the cooking and prep. Amazing and fun, we enjoyed Kumamoto and Fanny Bay oysters, both having a cool cucumber taste to them that went down easy. The scallops (served with pork cheeks, in a strange twist) were amazing. I can't say enough about the service though, even though we were at the bar area. Everyone in San Diego seems extraordinarily.. well, nice. Just really nice.

Highlight No. 2: Searsucker.Top Chef Brian Malarkey's restaurant in the Gaslamp District is a-mazing. We went there for lunch and I was fortunate enough to be directed to the french onion soup sandwich. Gruyere, caramelized onion, and bacon jam on whole wheat sourdough. It's one of those items that when you see it on the menu, you know it's going to be good. And it was. As were the "brown butter" fries. Again, the service was on the money with friendly, approachable, knowledgeable staff. Maybe it's in the water.

Highlight No. 3: In-N-Out Burger. Yup, I'll take a #2 with fried onions. I will wait 10 minutes for you to make this, to perfectly grill the bun, freshly prepare and salt the fries and put it all together by hand. I will continue to wish you were on the east coast.

San Diego is a city located in Southern California.  First photo credited to www.virtualtourist.com.

Reindeer and Caviar and Borscht, Oh My

Greetings faithful readers (all 2 of you). Sorry for my absence, but I swear, more international travel was to blame. This time, to Russia! And surrounding lands. In the dead of winter.

The cuisine in these often cold and bitter lands is perhaps what you'd expect -- hearty, with an emphasis on carbohydrates and meat. Meat like reindeer, pictured left, which was surprisingly good. Expecting it to taste like venison, I was surprised to taste what I would have sworn was really good beef. Served on top of delicious mashed potatoes with lingonberries on the side, I was sufficiently warmed to return to the frigid, windy outdoors that awaited me.

As you may know, Russia is not known for its cuisine. Although we might be able to name a couple of signature dishes, we are not rushing to Russia to understand cutting edge food preparation or techniques. Perhaps the culture doesn't support it. At the risk of stereotyping an entire country, I found Russians to be, to put it mildly, unfriendly. Now, it was the middle of winter and sunlight was non-existent (heck, there was only daylight for about 5 hours), but nevertheless, smiles were frequently returned with frowns. The first night of my trip, we ate in the hotel restaurant, which appeared to serve either Italian or Chinese -- our choice! Strange and unsurprisingly empty.

The second night, after watching Swan Lake (okay, there may have been some sleeping instead of watching, but I swear the Hermitage is a big and tiring place!), we ventured into the Grand Hotel's restaurant that purported to serve traditional Russian cuisine. The servers were dressed in traditional clothing and in one booth, a band began gearing up to play. I did what anyone would and should do -- I ordered caviar. The waiter kindly explained to me when I tried to sample of gram of this and a gram of that that they do not serve anything less than five grams. Suspicious of this high-priced scam, I ordered five grams of Sevruga, which our waiter said often tastes like Beluga.

I direct you to the picture above right. The small mound of caviar at the top of the plate, with only slightly more, was served to me in a teaspoon on my plate. All of a sudden, the reasoning behind the five gram minimum became painfully apparent. Those grams? Not a lot. However, the caviar was amazing. With the buttery refined taste of sushi combined with a more subtle version of the popping texture of large salmon roe, it was heavenly. The fresh blinis and creme fraiche were pretty great as well.

Washing it down with Tsarskaya vodka (if I remember correctly) was a perfect accompaniment. The next course was borscht, a wonderfully warm soup made from beets. This borscht, served with a dollop of sour cream on top, hit the spot. Slices of cabbage floated in the rich broth, making my memories of endlessly walking through the snow and cold more happy and warm. As if it made sense when one could arrive at a meal like this at the end of the day.

My dining companion ordered Beef Stroganoff (we had at this point walked back and forth in front of the Stroganoff Palace several times). Our server explained the background of the dish -- General Stroganoff lost one arm in battle and, as a result, all of his food had to be cut into bite-size pieces. His chef made this dish one night to accommodate his needs. In Russia, the beef is served with any carbohydrate, like potatoes, rather than simply with noodles. This version arrived with the potatoes on the side and was reported to be delicious.

A fitting end to a long day. The band started to play and a Russian singer began belting out vaguely familiar songs. I think our server even smiled at us. All in all, a memorable meal.

The Caviar Bar & Restaurant is located in the Grand Hotel Europe, St. Petersburg, Russia, www.grandhoteleurope.com.

Japan - Kaiseki

Recently, I spent 15 days in Japan. Hence my absence from this blog. The experience really rearranged my palate. Or at least that's how I can best articulate what happened after my steady diet of fish, rice, noodles, and various things I cannot name (because, to this day, I have no idea what they were). I currently find myself disdainful of the heavily portioned, rich, somewhat boring, American diet. I am hopeful for my overall health that this outlook will last for at least a couple of weeks, but it remains to be seen. In any case, I offer the following description of the best meal I had in Japan in lieu of a Philadelphia-based review to make up for lost time.

The meal was consumed at the "the good Kaiseki place," as my friends currently living there call it, in Misawa, located in the northern part of Honshu (about three and half hours north of Tokyo). Most restaurants in Japan, except for McDonald's and KFC, post their names in Japanese - in Japanese characters. As a result, we went to places like "the best ramen place" and "expensive sushi restaurant." We don't know their actual names.
This meal, as I came to think about many of my meals in Japan, was amazing. Not only for taste, but also for diversity, precision and size. This first dish - sesame tofu with wasabi, was delicious. A perfectly silken but firm piece of tofu, topped with just enough wasabi to offset the sweet soy sauce. I don't even like wasabi, and I loved this.
The next course consisted of (clockwise from left), egg with shrimp and sea urchin, "seafood" (a bit like escargot, maybe) served in a seashell, salmon roe with daikon, chicken with black sesame, and "fish." All of it was unlike anything I've ever tasted. Even though I had salmon roe before, this batch seemed especially flavorful, as though little bubbles were bursting in my mouth. It was also amazing to have a series of such diverse tastes that clearly reflect considerable effort, all in small portions on my plate. Apparently Thomas Keller was not the first to think of the multi-course amazing tasting menu.
Next was - you guessed this one - sashimi. But also perhaps the best sashimi I have ever had. It consisted of scallop (causing me to question why I have never ordered scallop sashimi here), tuna, and flounder. The scallop possessed all of the excellent qualities of cooked scallop in terms of texture, but in an intensified way.
The grilled fish entree course, common in kaiseki meals, was mackeral with spring onion and miso. We were instructed to dip the onion in the miso bean mixture. As expected, the contrast was delicious and the fish done to delicate perfection. Because scale is not always clear, I will tell you that the fish was about three bites big, the perfect size for an eight course meal.
The next course, although not entire clear from the picture here, consisted of an amazing soup that featured crab, fish, squid and mussels topped with this odd rice-like grain (and another great addition of a little wasabi). The taste of seafood soups was always extraordinary in Japan, infused with a rich flavor. This was no exception.
The sixth course remains perhaps my favorite of anything in Japan (although I do tend toward both exaggerated and superlative descriptions, I did love this course). It consisted of crabmeat and cucumber wrapped in soy paper served on top of sliced persimmon, with rice wine vinegar and topped with chrysanthemum. A tremendous effort and a great result - all for two perfect bites.
The seventh course was a combination -- one of rich rice, infused with a mushroom that we were told was "very expensive" and prized by the Japanese, and clam soup. I wasn't sure what the fuss was about the rice, although it was rich and flavorful in an almost meaty way. But the soup was flavored simply with the clams and shiso leaf, a particularly interesting combination that was quirky and satisfying.

The last course was a perfect finish - apples poached in red wine and sugar. Refreshing but sweet, the perfect end to the meal. All in all, the meal, much like my trip, was unsual and inspiring.

Japan is a group of islands in the Pacific, east of China, Korea and Russia.

Blue Smoke

Part of the beauty of Philadelphia is being able to travel easily through the northeast. So easily, in fact, that I have come to regularly enjoy the day trip to New York. An hour and a half on Amtrak, and you can be in the middle of one of the most awesome cities in the world. It's still nice to come home, however, but it doesn't hurt to enjoy the trip.

On this particular trip, after some time at the Metropolitan Museum of Art and Central Park, my omelette rival and I headed to Blue Smoke, a self-described "urban barbecue." I chose this among MOR's proffered options because, well, it looked fun. It looked like a place where you could comfortably unwind after negotiating your way through a city that simultaneously drains and feeds your energy.

And it was fun. As is the case in all of New York City, I am constantly amazed at how great the service usually is, followed up shortly by a revelation that most of the servers in the city are, in fact, auditioning for their next acting gig. Hey, I'll take it. I don't care.

After ordering a dark rum mojito (an interesting twist but still quite good) and a Peak Organic beer (reportedly very tasty), we started with the calamari, which was about 50% fried batter and 50% calamari. I like fried batter as much as the next girl, so it wasn't the worst thing, but it was a little strange for a dish called "calamari." From there, MOR ordered the "Rhapsody in 'Cue," a pun-ny twist on the all-we-make-on-a-plate concept featuring Kansas City spareribs, pulled pork, smoked chicken, and sausage. The spareribs were too spicy for me, but the pulled pork and chicken were delicious, offering a good mix of moisture and smokiness. Blue Smoke offers a lazy susan of sauces at each table with which to dress everything, making me think that perhaps I, too, should get a lazy susan of sauces for my dining room. Everything's a little better with barbecue sauce, you know?

I opted for the sliced Texas beef brisket, with a 50/50 mix of marbled and lean. The ability to mix (or choose one) was ingenious, in my opinion, and I'm glad I got the mix. The marbled was delicious and rich, but an entire plate would have been too much. The lean was -- you guessed it -- a bit more dry, but still very good, especially with the Kansas City barbecue sauce. Accompaniments of fried onions and mashed potatoes were appropriate and delicious, if not more than a little rich.

Which made dessert all the better. I opted for a refreshing key lime pie, which was just that. MOR got a peach and blackberry cobbler, interestingly topped with small drop biscuits. The fruit was fresh, but dessert after that meal was a little much for both of us.

In addition to bubbly wait staff, Blue Smoke also offers live jazz downstairs, lots of seating and a handsome bar. All in all, a fun place to stop and eat -- and within walking distance of Penn Station. What's not to like about a place with its own handi-wipes?

Blue Smoke is located at 116 E. 27th Street, New York, http://www.bluesmoke.com/.

In-N-Out Burger

Philadelphia is now home to several, supposedly very good, burger chains -- Five Guys and Goodburger. While I haven't been to Goodburger, I found Five Guys to offer an overdone, over-topped burger that left me needing a nap in about an hour. And while I always try to avoid gender stereotypes, especially when it comes to food, I don't find it surprising that Five Guys draws a big male crowd, a certain type of which seems uniquely capable of consuming that much food at lunch.

On a recent trip to L.A., however, I was told I should go to In-N-Out burger. My California-native friends confirmed the recommendation and mentioned the milkshake as being one of the best ever. And so, on my last day there, I set out in search of one. Together with my coffee-loving cohort (so named because when you're traveling, it's helpful to have someone who shares your need for coffee in the morning), we mapped out the closest en route to the airport.

My verdict? Excellent. It's not a burger that competes with pub burgers, or burgers filled with bleu cheese. It's a straightforward burger, with an excellent bun to meat to topping ratio. The fries are hand cut every morning (the meat is fresh as well, not frozen) and taste like a heartier version of McDonald's. They even have a "special sauce," which, like every other special sauce, tastes like (because it is) thousand island dressing. Applied on a freshly grilled bun, however, it's pretty tasty. As someone who enjoys her accessories, I also have to give props to the handy wrapping that allows for neater eating.

CLC ordered a veggie option, cluing me in on the fact that there are many off-menu items available. She got the grilled cheese, for which they grill two bun "bottoms," which makes a certain level of sense. She's a fan. They also offer a "veggie burger," which is essentially all of their toppings sans burger.

The milkshake was perhaps most amazing, given that it was dispensed out of a machine. The taste of chocolate was especially strong, but nicely balanced through the shake. It was thick in the way that milkshakes should be, not whipped with air, but thick with ice cream. It was ... $1.19. Seriously.

I'm not moving to the west coast anytime soon, but if you're going to fight L.A. traffic, In-N-Out is a great reprieve.

There are no In-N-Out Burger's east of Arizona.

Mack & Manco's

I did not grow up in Philadelphia. I did not vacation at the shore. In fact, I tend to call going to the ocean "the beach." I'd like to think, however, that I listen to the advice of friends. Among those from the Philadelphia area, who have fond memories of summers at the shore, I had received near unanimous recommendation of Mack & Manco's. I had even sampled it before, but never fresh. Nonetheless, it had become legendary in my mind.

Will I reveal to you that the emperor has no clothes? Not quite. But not quite the clothes you would expect from royalty. Mack & Manco's offers standard, reliable, thin-crust pizza. The ingredients are not extraordinary. I have not craved it since eating it. But I did enjoy it, given the time and place.

I was enjoying my off-season vacation at Ocean City with my happy ocean front condo, when some of my friends suggested biking there for a late afternoon snack. Mack & Manco's is apparently the Starbucks of Ocean City, with storefronts on every block (okay, just three, but seemingly close to one another). This being March, however, only the 9th Street post was open. We were cold and up for pizza, after mastering things like a "tandem bicycle" and the "tricycle" (built for adults with the giant basket and strange steering capabilities). I supply this context because any pizza at this point would be a welcome shift from the freezing wind in our face.

My one friend suggested we get an entire pie to split amongst the four of us, under the "we're not messing around here" approach. Large regular it was. The pizza is thin crust style and when piping hot, was somewhat tasty. I got the feeling that in about twenty minutes, the crust would have turned pretty hard. The sauce is swirled on top in several concentric circles with a thin consistency. The cheese tasted less of pure mozzarella and more of an unknown mix, yet I still wanted a bit more cheese in my cheese-to-sauce ratio. That being said, I have also sampled their white pizza and think it may be superior to their plain. Ultimately, Mack & Manco's was not much more for me than a nice break from the bike ride, scarfing down hot pizza on a cold day overlooking the ocean.

Perhaps Mack & Manco's is best appreciated for the reasons I enjoyed it -- the ocean and the camaraderie. That particular combination will always be legendary.

Mack & Manco Pizza has three locations in Ocean City, NJ, http://www.mackandmancos.com/.