I'm now in Finland for business - and for those of you paying attention, yes, I left Europe for two weeks and am now back here for about two weeks. Gotta' love business travel and am ample pool of PTO time allowing for extended trips.
I've always enjoyed the Finnish breakfast. Cheese, cold cuts, cucumber, tomatoes and tasty bread. Plus herring and 5 minute eggs. It's a simple breakfast, one that fills you up but doesn't leave the sickly full feeling of the American breakfast of eggs and bacon and hash browns, etc.
Every time I'm in Finland, I think, I need to start eating like this more like this at home. Certainly, I have the bread and cheese part down, and do the weekend egg thing, now I just need the rest.
Sauna tonight. Yeah!!!
Tuesday, October 25, 2005
Friday, October 21, 2005
Heels + Cobblestone Streets = California Cuisine
In part because I'd brought along some nice clothes and I was in a festive mood - I was on holiday, after all! I decided to dress up for dinner at de Kas. We'd heard great things about the restaurant, located in a green house in a park south of the center of Amsterdam. In retrospect while I'm sure that I looked great, wearing heels wasn't such a good idea. Cobblestone streets and getting lost (repeatedly) caused some discomfort. Nilay can happily explain why we got lost, and he should also let you know that I was amazingly calm, considering.
The paragraph of whining doesn't matter, really. De Kas was amazing. Simply amazing. As in amazing enough that I forgot how much my feet hurt and we decided to return for another meal, lunch, slightly more than 12 hours after being the last ones to leave that evening. And again, the last ones to leave around 4:30 after lunch the next day.
Dinner:
We started with a glass of Moet & Chandon with a sprig of lemon thyme (mental note - this is how I'm going to serve champagne going forward). Four appetizers, accompanied by two white wines: an oyster with chiffonnaded spinach and a piece of some type of beef; warm white bean soup topped with a frothy asparagus blend served in a shot glass; a piece of white fish accompanied by a hunk of celeriac wrapped with a thin piece of bacon; a slice of pumpkin squash with sweet onion compote. The main course was a grilled venison chop with a healthily rich sauce and served with potatoes and some type of mushroom and carrot sauteed, surrounded by basil oil. I noted that the carrots were cut into almost perfect little squares. As expected, a deep red wine (a cabernet, maybe?) accompanied dinner. We rested with the cheese course, a handful of red grapes, and port.
By this time, we had become friends with the waiter, who kindly gave us extras on the port; he had recognized the trend towards serious eaters and drinkers. A pear tart with vanilla bean ice cream and some pistachios arrived with a glass of dessert wine. Followed by a plate of cookies and candied oranges dipped in chocolate and lemon verbena tea, a de Kas specialty. Just when we thought it was safe, he brought us two small glasses of prune liquor, similar to limoncello. And delicious - who knew prunes could be so good?
Somewhere between the main course and the cheese course, Nilay mentioned that the chef must have been influenced by Bay Area restaurants like Chez Panisse and French Laundry. It wasn't only the quality of the food and its preparation, but the emphasis on organic and the open space and casual feel. Nilay is very smart.
Lunch:
Lunch was just as good as dinner. The chefs even made sure that our meal was not exactly a replica of dinner, and it was fun to see how they managed to change up the courses. Appetizers were comprised of an oyster with red wine vinaigrette and shallots (my favorite, by far); a small piece of seared/baked salmon; a shot glass of broccoli soup (which I at least tried, before wrinkling my nose and letting Nilay have the rest); and another dish which I have forgotten. A generous piece of white fish with a crunchy parsley topping, spinach and cabbage and carrots served as the main dish. Again, a cheese course with port and whole walnuts. Dessert was delivered to the table by the chef: deep fried pieces of milk chocolate, candied prunes and vanilla bean ice cream with some pistachios. Trust me, the combination was better than it sounds. By this time, I was so full that I couldn't even touch the obligatory plate of cookies and candied chocolate dipped oranges delivered at the end. (A few weeks later, I wish that I'd been able to take the cookies to go. I'm kind of hungry as I write this).
The head chef made a personal visit to our table while we were immersed in the luncheon cheese course. I got a little fluttery (funny how I can meet with CEOs of major game companies without breaking a sweat, yet get nervous when meeting the head chef of a brilliant restaurant). He had lived in the Bay Area and worked in a variety of restaurants, including Chez Panisse. Not surprisingly, Chez Panisse, as well as French Laundry, Zuni Cafe and others served as inspirations for de Kas. Amazing how California cuisine has worked it's way throughout the world.
The paragraph of whining doesn't matter, really. De Kas was amazing. Simply amazing. As in amazing enough that I forgot how much my feet hurt and we decided to return for another meal, lunch, slightly more than 12 hours after being the last ones to leave that evening. And again, the last ones to leave around 4:30 after lunch the next day.
Dinner:
We started with a glass of Moet & Chandon with a sprig of lemon thyme (mental note - this is how I'm going to serve champagne going forward). Four appetizers, accompanied by two white wines: an oyster with chiffonnaded spinach and a piece of some type of beef; warm white bean soup topped with a frothy asparagus blend served in a shot glass; a piece of white fish accompanied by a hunk of celeriac wrapped with a thin piece of bacon; a slice of pumpkin squash with sweet onion compote. The main course was a grilled venison chop with a healthily rich sauce and served with potatoes and some type of mushroom and carrot sauteed, surrounded by basil oil. I noted that the carrots were cut into almost perfect little squares. As expected, a deep red wine (a cabernet, maybe?) accompanied dinner. We rested with the cheese course, a handful of red grapes, and port.
By this time, we had become friends with the waiter, who kindly gave us extras on the port; he had recognized the trend towards serious eaters and drinkers. A pear tart with vanilla bean ice cream and some pistachios arrived with a glass of dessert wine. Followed by a plate of cookies and candied oranges dipped in chocolate and lemon verbena tea, a de Kas specialty. Just when we thought it was safe, he brought us two small glasses of prune liquor, similar to limoncello. And delicious - who knew prunes could be so good?
Somewhere between the main course and the cheese course, Nilay mentioned that the chef must have been influenced by Bay Area restaurants like Chez Panisse and French Laundry. It wasn't only the quality of the food and its preparation, but the emphasis on organic and the open space and casual feel. Nilay is very smart.
Lunch:
Lunch was just as good as dinner. The chefs even made sure that our meal was not exactly a replica of dinner, and it was fun to see how they managed to change up the courses. Appetizers were comprised of an oyster with red wine vinaigrette and shallots (my favorite, by far); a small piece of seared/baked salmon; a shot glass of broccoli soup (which I at least tried, before wrinkling my nose and letting Nilay have the rest); and another dish which I have forgotten. A generous piece of white fish with a crunchy parsley topping, spinach and cabbage and carrots served as the main dish. Again, a cheese course with port and whole walnuts. Dessert was delivered to the table by the chef: deep fried pieces of milk chocolate, candied prunes and vanilla bean ice cream with some pistachios. Trust me, the combination was better than it sounds. By this time, I was so full that I couldn't even touch the obligatory plate of cookies and candied chocolate dipped oranges delivered at the end. (A few weeks later, I wish that I'd been able to take the cookies to go. I'm kind of hungry as I write this).
The head chef made a personal visit to our table while we were immersed in the luncheon cheese course. I got a little fluttery (funny how I can meet with CEOs of major game companies without breaking a sweat, yet get nervous when meeting the head chef of a brilliant restaurant). He had lived in the Bay Area and worked in a variety of restaurants, including Chez Panisse. Not surprisingly, Chez Panisse, as well as French Laundry, Zuni Cafe and others served as inspirations for de Kas. Amazing how California cuisine has worked it's way throughout the world.
Friday, October 14, 2005
My Love Affair with Cheese
I love cheese. I always have, I always will. Given a choice, I almost always choose cheese over dessert. If I could roll around naked in cheese, I would. Ok, maybe not. But you get the point.
France is heaven for cheese lovers. I remember walking into fromageries, breathing in the deep, rich, complex smell of hundreds of cheese and wanting to cry. Last week in Amsterdam, I discovered that while a bit different, Holland cheeses are simply amazing and just as good as those from France. Luckily, I was traveling with Nilay, who loves cheese almost as much as I do. He probably never thought about rolling around naked in cheese, but now that I've planted the idea...
Appropriately enough, Gouda hosted our first meal involving a cheese course. When we asked the waiter to tell us about the selection, he furrowed his brows, pointed to the first cheese, and said, "it's normal cheese". It was anything but normal: an aged soft gouda with a slightly tangy flavor, layered with more depth than I thought a gouda could possess.
We ordered the cheese service with both meals at de Kas in Amsterdam. WOW. A parmesano reggiano shot with rocquefort cheese. A runny and gooey yellow tangy cows milk. A gouda studded with cloves and cumin. Some creamy white firm cheeses. More runny cheeses, similar to brie, but better. And many others - Nilay, help? I was in heaven!
We picnicked in Monnikendam, purchasing lunch at a farmer's market. Two kinds of cheese accompanied lunch - a strong, somewhat traditional gouda and a firm goat's milk cheese. (Mental note to self: why did I think I only needed to bring along a wine opener from the apartment when I knew we would be picnicking? I rooted through a cheese slicer and knives in the drawer to grab the wine opener and even picked up plastic cups from the car rental agency. Yet, I never thought about utensils until we were ready to purchase the food. Nilay now owns another swiss army knife).
This afternoon at Cheese Plus in San Francisco, I told the salesperson about the incredible Holland cheeses. She told me how lucky I was, and explained that although raw milk cheeses are now allowed in the U.S., the FDA still has a number of requirements about length of aging, composition, etc. So technically, while we're able to get raw cheese, we're not able to get young raw cheese, which provides a different dimension and depth to the cheese, partially accounting for the incredible taste of all of that cheese in Holland.
I want to go back to Holland. Soon.
France is heaven for cheese lovers. I remember walking into fromageries, breathing in the deep, rich, complex smell of hundreds of cheese and wanting to cry. Last week in Amsterdam, I discovered that while a bit different, Holland cheeses are simply amazing and just as good as those from France. Luckily, I was traveling with Nilay, who loves cheese almost as much as I do. He probably never thought about rolling around naked in cheese, but now that I've planted the idea...
Appropriately enough, Gouda hosted our first meal involving a cheese course. When we asked the waiter to tell us about the selection, he furrowed his brows, pointed to the first cheese, and said, "it's normal cheese". It was anything but normal: an aged soft gouda with a slightly tangy flavor, layered with more depth than I thought a gouda could possess.
We ordered the cheese service with both meals at de Kas in Amsterdam. WOW. A parmesano reggiano shot with rocquefort cheese. A runny and gooey yellow tangy cows milk. A gouda studded with cloves and cumin. Some creamy white firm cheeses. More runny cheeses, similar to brie, but better. And many others - Nilay, help? I was in heaven!
We picnicked in Monnikendam, purchasing lunch at a farmer's market. Two kinds of cheese accompanied lunch - a strong, somewhat traditional gouda and a firm goat's milk cheese. (Mental note to self: why did I think I only needed to bring along a wine opener from the apartment when I knew we would be picnicking? I rooted through a cheese slicer and knives in the drawer to grab the wine opener and even picked up plastic cups from the car rental agency. Yet, I never thought about utensils until we were ready to purchase the food. Nilay now owns another swiss army knife).
This afternoon at Cheese Plus in San Francisco, I told the salesperson about the incredible Holland cheeses. She told me how lucky I was, and explained that although raw milk cheeses are now allowed in the U.S., the FDA still has a number of requirements about length of aging, composition, etc. So technically, while we're able to get raw cheese, we're not able to get young raw cheese, which provides a different dimension and depth to the cheese, partially accounting for the incredible taste of all of that cheese in Holland.
I want to go back to Holland. Soon.
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