A Taste of the Southwest

My handsome hubby and I plan to eventually move to New Mexico. Six years ago, we spent our honeymoon in Santa Fe, and fell in love with the scenery and the spirit of the land. While there, we ate a good deal of tasty local cuisine at places like Maria's, Tortilla Flats, the Corn Dance Cafe at the Hotel Santa Fe, La Cantina at Coyote Cafe, and The Anasazi Restaurant.

Every once in a while, I get a hankering for green or red chile (or both - Christmas style!) with pork, and I have to make it myself. There doesn't seem to be anything like Southwest food in my area, although I think when Taste first opened, there was mention of Southwest cuisine in their PR info. And Blue Agave has authentic Mexican cuisine, which may come slightly close. There are green chiles (albeit not Hatch) on the menu, at the very least.

So when I'm in another city, and I see a restaurant that bills itself as serving cuisine from the Southwest, I'm all over it. In New York, there's Agave, on 7th Avenue in the West Village. Alas, the menu has what seems an awful lot like Tex-Mex food to me: tacos, quesadillas, but they also have Hatch green chiles in a chowder with corn and chicken. And squash blossoms are featured in one of the tacos. I figure I should take what I can get and allow myself to believe that I will find a taste of my future homeland somewhere beyond those front doors.

That said, I've been to Agave twice. The food is actually quite good, and even better, it's cheap. By NY standards. On my first trip, expecting miniscule portions for the reasonable prices, I ordered both the Hatch Green Chile, Corn & Chicken Chowder and the Autumn Leaves salad (caramelized apples, cabrales blue cheese, and spiced Texas pecans, with cider vinaigrette over baby greens) as appetizers. I was also naive enough to request that both the soup and salad arrive at the same time. Well, both plates barely fit on the table, especially with my DH's appetizer (that I've since forgotten) taking up a fair portion of real estate on the opposite side of the table. The soup was thick and rich and served in a large wide bowl. The salad was practically of Cheesecake Factory-proportions, with a huge mound of greens, slices of apple, and a good handful of nuts. At least they didn't go completely over the top with the application of cheese.

I couldn't tell you what I had for my entree; I was already in a food coma by the time it arrived. Neal had the "Santa Fe Shepard's Pie." (Why is it that people can't seem to spell shepherd correctly? It's just like "sheep herd" but with one less "e.") It was a rich and tasty mixture of chile and macaroni and shredded Jack cheese. I'm not sure it got finished. We were, after all, saving some room for dessert - gelato from a shop across the street.

I was in NY with my Dad recently and we stopped into Agave for an early dinner. Having recently had a slice of pizza from Pizza Box and some miscellaneous cream-filled things from Rocco's Bakery, we weren't exactly starving, but part of this trip to NY was a birthday dinner for me. We planned to hit the Turnpike soon, so this was to be the last chance for that celebratory meal.

At least I knew not to order both a soup and salad, so just had the Autumn Leaves salad. It was again enormous, and I made Dad eat some of it to help me out. I opted for what seemed like a lighter entree, the Skirt Steak Carne Asada Tacos. Dad, after inquiring if I liked chorizo, opted for Pan Roast Pork Tenderloin filled with a chorizo & caramelized apple stuffing lacquered with a maple cider treacle.

Again, we were not disappointed by the portion size. I had three tacos, each filled with a tangle of strips of skirt steak, cooked medium, with blobs of salsa, sour cream, and guacamole to one side, and the standard "Mexican" rice on the other. The meat had a satisfying chew and a pleasant piquant flavor. Dad got the equivalent of half a tenderloin, sliced and slightly fanned out next to a large assortment of roasted vegetables including butternut squash, summer squash, and what may have been parsnips. All seemed to be glazed with the maple cider "treacle." It was all very flavorful, and the pork was tender and juicy.

The best part of the meal, however, was the number of times my water glass was refilled - 10. Two cups of coffee and no other liquid consumed over the course of the day had left me dehydrated, so I appreciated the attention to my need.

So...Agave is pretty darn good, regardless of what it calls the cuisine it serves. Does anyone else out there have recommendations for restaurants serving good Southwestern food outside of the actual Southwest part of this country?

An aside: Because it sounds so horribly fusion, I was drawn to the "Tesque Seared Ahi Tuna Tataki Tostaditas" A Google search for the word "tesque" brought up a recipe for that exact menu item, as featured on Rachael Ray's Tasty Travels. Ack! Anyway, I think that "tesque" is just an innocent misspelling of Tesuque, a pueblo just north of Santa Fe. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't think Ahi tuna is indiginous to New Mexico. But if Rachael pronounced it "yum-o!" then it has to be good, right?

I'm Just Wild About Harry!

Last week, I was hanging out in Delaware with my dear friend Kate when she suggested that she treat me to a birthday lunch since we probably wouldn't have opportunity to get together before that hallowed day (November 17). She suggested Harry's Seafood Grill and sent me to check out the sample menu on their Web site. Now, as a graphic designer, I am well aware of the importance that needs to be placed on such things as image and marketing, and was pleased to see that Harry's site was good-looking and well-designed. That means good things, in my mind, so I jumped at the chance to dine there.

The restaurant was as tastefully decorated as the site was well-designed, with interesting sea-themed artworks (including the wire starfish sculpture that took up most of the ceiling of the main dining room) and a large window overlooking the river. There are also tables outside under a broad awning for dining in more clement weather.

Kate was acquainted with one of the chefs at Harry's, and we had an opportunity to meet with her and chat a bit before ordering our food. She made some suggestions as to the best items on the rather large lunchtime menu (that included an impressive selection of raw items like sashimi and several varieties of ceviche). I had to agree with her that yes, the Cajun Short Ribs with Fried Shrimp and Grits in a Tasso Cream Sauce was not to be missed. Kate went for the Soft Crab Sandwich with Remoulade and Yukon Gold Potato Chips because she was in the mood for crab, and because I had never eaten a soft crab before - mainly because of the legs that dangle from the sandwich. I have no issues with hard crabs, but put one between two slices of bread and suddenly it becomes a fried spider. The chef had also recommended the Oktoberfest Moules Frites, so we ordered that as a shared appetizer.

The next thing we know, an order of New Orleans Barbeque Shrimp and Toasted Focaccia with Fresh Smoked Tomato Salad was coming to our table, compliments of the chef. Four large, plump shrimp bathed in a tangy sauce were nestled together next to a generous pile of greens topped with smoky tomatoes. Now, don't think N'awlins style barbeque sauce has anything to do with what one normally thinks of as 'cue (any region's style)...it's basically lots of butter, Worcestershire sauce, lemon, garlic, and spices, along with a dose of hot sauce. It was fan-tastic, much tastier than my preparation of one of Emeril's recipes some years ago (that was too heavy on the Worcestershire).

As soon as we were done with the shrimps, our lovely and perky waitress brought Kate's pre-appetizer of 3 different PEI oysters. I'll have to take her word for it that they were tasty, as I don't like raw oysters. :) Then came the mussels. A platter was placed before us containing a lidded serving vessel with 10 or 12 huge, beer-steamed specimens, a fancy wire swirly thing holding a cone of thinly cut frites, and a ramekin of black pepper mayo. Although the mussels were the usual black-shelled variety, some of the critters were so large I needed to cut them in half before popping them in my mouth. They were soft and succulent and even-textured, and didn't have the somewhat sickening "gack, is that a mussel spleen, or maybe a mussel colon I'm biting into now?" lumpy quality that I find in some larger mussels, particularly the green-lipped variety. The enormous serving of frites was crisp and delicious, and the mayo was a nice dip for both starch and shellfish.

I could have stopped right there with the eating, as I was already quite full, but we still had entrees coming. Whew! Mine was a dinner-sized portion - three meaty short ribs, three large shrimp that had been dipped in a savory batter and deep fried, and a good half-cup sized timbale of grits, all atop a lake of creamy sauce studded with bits of tasso ham. The meat was so tender, it fell off the bone at the mere threat of being struck with a knife, and the shrimp had that lovely iodine flavor that I like so much (I know some people probably don't like it, but to me, that's what makes a shrimp taste like a shrimp). But it was too much; I ate the shrimp and the grits and took the ribs home for a future lunchtime treat.

Kate's soft crab sandwich was also quite yummy. She shared a portion of the body so I wouldn't have to deal with the legs, and the crisp carapace was accented beautifully by the savory remoulade sauce. I didn't try her chips, but they were definitely of the home-made variety.

To add insult to injury, or rather, to avoid additional risk of stomach explosion, we opted to share a dessert. There were several interesting options on the menu, but I've always wanted to try a Sticky Toffee Pudding. Harry's was a hefty cylinder, served warm, with a large curved tuile acting as a dish for a scoop of house-made vanilla gelato, the plate further garnished with splotches of tart raspberry coulis and squiggles of homemade caramel on a pool of creme anglaise. Yowsa. It was delicious, and far too much to finish.

Two hours later, we waddled out of Harry's, very full and happy. This was one of the most consistantly delicious meals I've had in a long time (apart from the two dinners at Pazo this past summer), and I would be delighted to go back at any time. I highly recommend it.

Harry's Seafood Grill
101 S. Market St
Wilmington, DE 19801
P: 302-777-1500
F: 302-777-2406

Chorizo

One of my favorite seasonings is Mexican chorizo, Supremo brand, to be exact. I saw it at Han Ah Reum in the dairy/fresh noodle/Latino products section and thought I'd give it a try. Unlike Spanish chorizo, the Mexican version is not cured and needs to be cooked before eating. The Supremo brand of chorizo is a dark orange color and strongly flavored with what I believe is achiote/annatto. Both the flavor and aroma are unusual and quite delicious. These days, I always try to have a pack in my freezer. When I need some tangy flavoring to add to a quick pasta dish, for example, I just cut off a link or two and chop it up while still frozen and saute it with onions as the flavor base for my sauce.

Saturday, I thought I'd make up some macaroni and cheese for dinner, as it was cold and it would give me a good reason to turn on the oven. As I dug through the pantry for some flavoring ideas, my eye hit upon a can of Campbell's Condensed Southwest Style Pepper Jack Soup. Now, I'm not a big fan of canned, condensed soups, since homemade is so much more flavorful, so I'm not quite sure how this can made it into the house. But I thought, hell, it's creamy and cheesy, so I'll use it as a substitute for the white sauce. Suddenly we were heading Southwest. Then I remembered the chorizo.

I chopped up half an onion and tossed it in a dry skillet with two chorizo links that had been diced (there's plenty of fat in the chorizo, so no need to add more), put a lid on it, and cooked it down at low heat, stirring occasionally, until the onion was soft and the chorizo took on a dark, dry, crumbly appearance. I tossed in a handful of fresh chopped cilantro, stirred well, then took the meat off the heat.

Then I cooked a pound of small shell-shaped pasta to barely al dente. After draining, I put the pasta back on low heat and added the can of soup, about half a can of milk, plus about 6 oz of coarsely chopped sharp white cheddar (we always have a stick of Cracker Barrel on hand). After the cheese melted, I put in the chorizo mixture and stirred it all well, adding 3 chopped green onions, both light and dark parts.

This got poured into a lightly greased 9 x 13 baking dish and topped with some unseasoned breadcrumbs and shredded parmesan cheese. I baked it at 325F for about 45 minutes, long enough for the macaroni to absorb pretty much all of the sauce.

It came out tender and creamy-textured, although there was no sauce, with a crisp crust on both the top and the part touching the baking pan. The soup actually didn't have that familiar Campbell's taste, and was pretty much undetectable as such. But spicy! And the chorizo lent the dish a deep savoriness. Coupled with a salad of baby greens with a salsa vinaigrette, this experimental version of macaroni and cheese hit the spot.

And it allowed me to warm up the house for a bit, too.

Saffron

Yesterday was our sixth wedding anniversary. My husband and I had originally planned to go to Ixia, but encountered yet another issue with their reservationists. I had tried to make a reservation for New Year's Eve last year, and they insisted that they needed not only my credit card number but also my signature. And they wanted me to fax it. I refused, stating all the hundreds of transactions I had made over the years via the phone and Internet did not require a signature, so why should it be necessary now? Anyway, we did not eat there on New Year's Eve. This time around, I did manage to make a successful reservation, only to be called back by a second person and told that the restaurant was closed for a private party and my reservation could not be honored.

That's two strikes.

So we went to Saffron instead. We had been there a few years back, in its first incarnation as an Indian fusion restaurant. The meal was completely forgettable, and the service was poor. Although the place has not changed hands, it has changed chefs, in the form of one Edward Kim, he of the now-closed but well-reviewed Soigné. Ironically, Kim was also the original chef at Ixia.

Saffron now bills itself as "Modern American," but it is strongly Asian fusion, with such elements as yellow curry, sriracha chile, wasabi, wakame, tobiko, miso, and udon noodles on its menu. Reviews have been excellent, so Neal and I decided to give the place another try.

The decor has changed little, but wow, what a menu! I was immediately attracted to the seared foie gras with scallop and duck confit and caramelized pear rum butter reduction. Neal chose the grilled stuffed squid with crab and shrimp mix and orange coconut curry for his appetizer.

The portion of foie was more than ample. Atop an unruly pile of tender duck confit and pieces of scallop sat a crescent of foie about 3/4" of an inch thick and about 3" long. As I tried a bite, I noticed another chunk of foie almost as large as the first, hidden in the tangle of duck meat. The foie was seared so it was crisp on the outside and meltingly rare in the center. The confit was stellar - moist and chunky full of flavor. The scallops were completely unnecessary, and added nothing to the dish, but were tasty nonetheless. And the sauce was just rich brownness. I detected some bits of dried fruit here and there, but not an actual fruitiness, and unfortunately, no rum.

Neal was unsure about his dish. It was a lightly grilled whole squid, stuffed with a mixture of pureed shrimp and crab, and topped with a sweet curry sauce that didn't taste much of curry at all. Perhaps is was more a Thai style curry than Indian? Anyway, I think the squid was slightly undercooked, as it had that somewhat squeaky, unyielding texture that is also present in raw squid sushi. The crab flavor was very strong, but I thought the dish had a nice balance of flavors, overall.

I just wish both appetizers had been served hot, rather than room temperature.

For our entrees, I stayed with the duck and scallop theme, choosing the sauteed diver sea scallops, truffle, porcini and duck confit risotto, with porcini reduction balsamic syrup. Neal was lured by the grilled new zealand rack of lamb, sauteed butternut squash gnocchi, with pan braised savoy cabbage, and onion confit pomegranate demiglace.

Several large and browned scallops surrounded a mound of brown risotto. There was a dark brown sauce drizzled around the edges of the plate. Despite the unrelenting brownness (hello? how about a token vegetable, just for color?), the scallops were perfectly cooked, and the risotto was amazing. The rice was cooked al dente, yet the concoction was unctuously creamy. There was a generous amount of confit mixed into the rice, and the whole thing was flavored with truffle. The balsamic drizzle also seemed to have finely minced bits of truffle in it. I would say that the dish was somewhat decadent. Again, the scallops were unnecessary. I would have been happy with a big bowl of the risotto alone.

Neal's entree contained three cumin-crusted double chops arranged over the braised cabbage and the ethereally light gnocchi. I didn't get to taste the cabbage, confit, or demiglace, but the way he polished his serving off, I'd say it was probably very tasty. Despite the cabbage, Neal's dinner was also overwhelmingly brown. In fact, the only color on the table had been the orange curry sauce on his squid. Perhaps the kitchen needs to work on making their dishes more visually appealing.

We washed down our meal with a bottle of 2005 Fleur Pinot Noir, a very light and smooth red that went very well with all of the food.

We had to try Saffron's desserts, despite having two boxes of Jacques Torres chocolates at home. The menu was limited to the ubiquitous creme brulée, flourless chocolate cake, vanilla ice cream, a banana spring roll, and a mascarpone "pot de creme" cheesecake. We went with the latter two.

The banana spring roll was a long cylinder of brownness, cut on a diagonal. The crisp fried wrapper simply contained banana, and the whole thing was drizzled with homemade caramel sauce. I thought I detected a slight taste of curry powder, which was interesting. A small scoop of vanilla ice cream would have been a welcome touch.

The cheesecake was entirely too sweet. A cup-sized ramekin was packed with the cheese mixture and topped with more of that caramel sauce - definitely sweetness overkill. A portion half that size with a side of fresh berries drizzled in a balsamic syrup would have made for a more balanced flavor profile.

While Saffron did not have the perfection that I expected from Edward Kim, the flavors were fine and the quality of the food was high. They just need a little work on temperature, color, and dessert.

Oh, and an open kitchen in a restaurant that small isn't the best idea. The restaurant was hazy with cooking oil, and our clothes reeked when we left the place. The lighting is also a bit harsh, and I did not appreciate the fluorescent track spotlight hitting me in the face for the entire meal.