Archive

Monthly Archives: March 2011

On Friday I begin my month long detox- with a few breaks mind you (NYC trip, grill off, dinner party) that will be made up in May.  I’ve been looking forward to this for quite some time, and I’ll be honest in saying that I’m a little nervous that it’s going to be a struggle.  I’m not cutting specific foods out of my diet for any particular reason other than I want to prove to myself that I can live off of very similar meals for a month.  Here’s what’s on the menu.  PS: look forward to daily anecdotes- but don’t worry I’ll still be posting reviews, recipes, and pretty pictures- I stocked up on plenty of material.

Breakfast:

Farm yoghurt with local honey or fresh fruit with homemade granola or homemade whole wheat quick bread with almond butter and a smidgen of honey.

Lunch:

Fresh salads with seasonal vegetables and fruit or brown rice with kimchi and grilled tofu.

Snack:

Fresh fruit, almonds/cashews, fruit leather, homemade beet chips.

Dinner:

Tofu & salad or fresh pasta with vegetables or rice and tempeh.

Dessert:

Vegan cookies or fresh fruit sorbet.

To all those that see me on the daily- I’ll apologize in advance for my irritability the first few weeks.

-enfin

I guess you could say I’m a fan of Mexican food.  I like my fair share of burritos, puposas, and guacamole.  But I’m rarely the person who wants to go to a Mexican Restaurant.  Maybe that’s just because Portland has slim pickings- what do you suggest besides Tu Casa and El Rayo (which I already visit on a regular basis)? Margaritas? No thanks.  Mesa Verde? Pass.  Maine just doesn’t seem like the sort of state that would have good Mexican Food- and I guess that goes without saying.  But El Camino in Brunswick, has certainly changed my mind about most Mexican Restaurants.  If an American can make a pretty successful Cantina, in Brunswick, Maine, I think Portland should have a few more springing up in the near future.

I’ll tell you a little story about my visit to El Camino- but I’m going to have to take you back to last Monday, March 14th.  I had the day off, and my boyfriend and I decided to venture up the seacoast, after I had already indulged in a wonderful lunch at Miyake, and a bunch of pastries from Standard Bakery (are you surprised that I’m not obese like the rest of America?).  As we were driving back to Portland, we argued about where we should go to eat.  He wanted to stop in Damariscotta, but I thought Brunswick would be the best bet.  I had my hopes set on Flipside Pizza- which I still haven’t tried, because their hours are absurd.  I remembered as we  were driving down Maine Street, that there was a little hole-in-the-wall Cantina called El Camino, that my aunt had raved about.  I called one of my close friends and sought directions, but soon found out that El Camino is closed Mondays- what is with restaurants being closed on Mondays!?! Because it seemed like there were no other options at the moment, I dragged Sam into Lillie’s Bistro, and found myself, shortly after, arguing with the bartender about Maine State Law.  Let’s just say that Lillie’s doesn’t get a good review, now let’s fast-forward to last evening which was spent at El Camino.  Upon entering with my aunt and cousin, we were led to a cozy table, and were given menus which have different photos (like the one above) on the cover.  After having looked the menu over, our waitress arrived, and let’s just say my world began to crash and burn.  She was the bartender at Lillie’s Bistro. I couldn’t believe it, and she recognized me right off the bat.  Now, you should understand something before I continue- it’s not that she’s a bad server, it’s more so that my impression of her will never change- so that should explain where these ill-feelings come from.  If I haven’t made myself clear enough already.

We orded a basket of chips and salsa, which I must say were pretty delicious.  The chips were greasy- but most homemade tortilla chips are.  The salsa was smokey and spicy, but a nice wedge of lime contrasted the bold flavors of the dip.  My cousin began to hoard the chips, and soon after, I found myself wanting more.

When I was deciding on a drink, I didn’t really know what I wanted.  That is until I saw that they had limeade.  Then my heart stopped beating, and my eyes were starry.  I have a romance with that green citrus, and the fact that El Camino made a pretty unique limeade made my experience all the more wonderful.  They mix fresh lime-juice and coconut milk, shake it up real good, and serve over ice with a wedge of lime, in a tall frosty glass.  This drink, not only quenched my thirst, but made me feel like I was laying on a beach in Cancun, soaking up all that Vitamin D that I’ve been deprived of for the past four or five months.  Let me just say, that even if my food was bad- I’d still go back to El Camino, just for this drink.  Yeah- it was that good.

For dinner, I knew I wanted a quesadilla.  Sometimes the child within me orders- but whenever that does happen, I don’t regret it.  It’s just like an uninhabited me making an impulsive decision that is commendable, if anything.  El Camino had a wide variety of quesadillas, tacos, and salads, but they also are willing to let you design your own.  Each taco and quesadilla are served with crema, cucumber salsa, and smoky salsa.  I requested pickled onions instead of the cucumber salsa for my quesadilla.  Speaking of which, it was absolutely divine.  Stuffed with chorizo, sweet potato, cheddar cheese, and avocado, my taste buds were pleased.  The chorizo was so savory, and worked nicely with the velvety texture of the avocado.  I guess you can say I was HAPPY!

My aunt and cousin ordered similarly to me.  One opted for steak, while the other chose chicken.  But were honorable choices, but I was very content with my chorizo.  The inside of El Camino was very quirky, for it reminded me a lot of Silly’s.  The lighting was red- hence the reason why my photos are horrible.  The tables are all salvaged from the 50s, and there are fun Christmas lights and Mexican paper flags hanging from the ceiling.  I’m definitely planning on going back to El Camino.  Hopefully VERY VERY soon.

So I guess it’s very possible to have a superb Mexican restaurant in the state of Maine.  I guess that means you can disregard my entire introduction.  Woops.  I just stole a good two minutes of your time.

-e

When I wake up in the mornings- more typically during the summer than the winter- I always feel like a nice tall glass of sun tea, or some iced coffee.  And I suppose it may be true that coffee is my favorite beverage, and as you know, I love sweets- so when I first tasted Vietnamese Iced Coffee, or cà phê đá more than five years ago, I fell in love.  Since then I’ve treated Vietnamese Coffee like a delicacy.  I order it whenever I’m in Cambridge, and it’s the only drink I’ll get at Bard.  My grandmother gives me packets of instant Vietnamese Coffee called G7, but it’s nowhere near as good as the real thing.  That’s why I’ve decided to share with you, the steps on making the best cup of iced cà phê đá you’ll ever have.

Vietnamese Iced Coffee / cà phê đá

Serves 4

5 tbsps of Cafe du Monde Coffee
5 cups of water
10 tbsps of condensed milk
5 tsps of whole milk
ice cubes

Brew the Cafe du Monde, and cool for an hour in the refrigerator.

Into a chilled glass, put two tbsps of condensed milk onto the bottom.  Top with two-three ice cubes, and then one cup of the cooled Cafe du Monde.

Add one tsp of whole milk, and begin to stir, until the condensed milk dissolves into the coffee.  You’ll know when it is done, because the color of the drink will be a light light brown.

Serve immediately and enjoy!

PS: Definitely told you it was easy!

Portland has turned into a miniature vacation for foodies interested in the northern new england seaboard- in case you haven’t noticed.  and on the very top of their list, right after a decent lobster roll, and some freshly picked maine blueberries, i’m pretty sure you’ll find “reservation at hugo’s in portland”.  hugo’s has been making a bang ever since it opened in portland in october of 2000.  rob evans, the owner and chef, is an innovative and talented master in the kitchen.  he has won the james beard chef award, and has received recognition from the food and wine as well as the gastronomica magazines.  but let’s be honest.  even as a local i’ve never really had the chance to go to hugo’s.  for a while it had the reputation of being a snooty uppity restaurant that charged too much for a basket of bread and a glass of water.  but in the past 5 years or so, their reputation has been slightly altered.  the fine dining thing doesn’t do too well in Portland, anyway, so go figure.  Hugo’s is known for their six course blind tasting menu, which generally has a price tag of $85 per person.  But since December it’s been offered at a discounted price on tuesdays, wednesdays, and thursday.  $42.50 a person, until the end of march- so i guess i should apologize now, that i’m just posting this.  if you can i’d advise you to make that reservation as soon as you can, because you’ll be sated and gluttonous by the end of the evening.

Accompanying me was my lovely friend Nellie, who is also a fellow foodie.  Days before we had gone to Po’ Boys and Pickles for the first time and were both disappointed in their fare, but on that fateful Tuesday evening, we had high expectations to fill.  Our reservation was for 6:30, and we were seated at a quaint table for two by the door.  That, along with the service were the only annoyances I experienced all night, but we can get back to that later.  As we settled down into our conversation our Amuse Bouche was served.  It was a fluke tartare with a meyer lemon gelatin and dried crispy black olives on top.  the fluke was incredibly fresh- i felt like i could taste the sea water pouring out of it’s recently butchered meat.  the flavors were clean and familiar, and thankfully they cleansed my palate of that bitter espresso i had just moments before entering hugo’s.  This dish was a great way to start off the meal.

About fifteen minutes after our amuse had been served, and a few more beer biscuits had been consumed, a different waitress came over bearing this wonderful dish.  As she described it I couldn’t help think of anything besides beef carpaccio, which when made well, can be absolutely delicious.  What was in front of us was a Rare Beef Salad, with horseradish panna cotta, fried Shelburn Cheddar strips, picckled cipollini, and miner’s lettuce.  The beef was tender and whimsically thin- almost like tissue paper.  With the horseradish panna cotta accompaniment I thought immediately of a warm roast beef sandwich, but this dish went beyond that.  It was tantalizing and light, but brought a combination of wonderful flavors into my mouth where they danced around for quite sometime.  The miner’s lettuce was charming, but it also contrasted nicely with the texture of the rare beef.

The second course brought to us was a grilled local diver scallop, served with salsify, tare, and strings of winter squash.  I’ll admit that I tend to rave about scallops on this blog.  And I always end up saying that, “this scallop was the best I’ve ever had,” but let’s pretend all those were practice runs.  This diver scallop was thick and full of flavor.  Grilling suited it best, because the charcoal grill marks added a dimension of smokiness and flavor that cannot be replicated otherwise.  The scallop was that perfect temperature, between lukewarm and warm, and the center was just a tad bit raw.  There was no difficulty chewing the scallop, and the tare sauce underneath, only added onto it’s extravagance.  The winter squash strands were divine and provided a thoughtful aside to balance the complex flavors that were brought about in this dish.

The third course was brought to us by a nice waiter who explained the origins of the seaweed element in this dish.  It was presented as a Casco Bay Cod crusted in oyster  crackers, and then fried until golden, with a sesame mashed potato, smoked dashi and miso reduction with locally harvested kelp, and cilantro.  I’m not the biggest seafood fan, but I do appreciate fish that is cooked to it’s fullest potential.  This cod, I feel, was justified in its cooking method.  The crispy crust contrasted with the slimy texture of the kelp, and the velvety texture of the miso and smoked dashi broth.  the sesame mashed potatoes were compelling, and had a romantic effect over me.  i guess i’ll be pouring vats of sesame oil into mashed potatoes from now on.

Our 4th course, was beautiful and intricate.  Referred to as the Suckling Pig Three Ways, we were presented with a large plate, with a piece of compressed shoulder, homemade thai sausage, and pig foot atop a long wonton noodle.  A curry froth, curried peanuts, and sweet potato medallions rendered this the most impressive dish of the evening.  The noodle (i love them) was soft and satiating and delicate.  The curry froth was light and pure, and it added an enriching effect on all of the proteins on the plate.  The foot was by far the best cooked- tender and flavorful.  The compressed shoulder was Nellie’s favorite, and it was seasoned quite nicely, and contrasted well with the crunch of the curried peanuts.  The sweet potatoes were earthy and dainty, and the thai sausage was moderately spicy, with all those wonderful asian spices like coriander to have it go off the charts.

At this point in the meal, Nellie and I were bordering depression.  We knew we had two courses more, but we wanted the food to be endless.  Our conversation had dwindled, and food coma was beginning to conquer our bodies.  The waitress brought us two deep bowls, and a mysterious pitcher.  Inside of our bowls were three little pieces of fried brioche covered in cinnamon and sugar, underneath rested a raisin compote.  And out of the pitcher poured a steaming line of warm creme, which had rested in the kitchen with some activated yeast in it.  All of these aspects created our fifth course, that being the Yeast Soup- which is quite decadent, vaguely resembling a Cinnabon but more sinful, regardless of the wretched name it boasts.

As the last remnants of our Yeast Soup were slurped up, we hypothesized what we’d get next.  I desperately wanted cake and homemade semifreddo.  Nellie wanted chocolate.  Her wish was granted, and out came Chocolate Pudding Cakes, with almond brittle, a coffee reduction, chili pepper strands, and an almond milk reduction.  The consistency was between a mousse and a ganache, and cooled the tongue, but heated the heart.  The chili pepper strands were wonderful additions- they reminded me of the spicy pepper ice creme at 555, and the reductions, specifically the coffee, were simple creations which worked their influential magic over the star of the show- that being the chocolate pudding cake itself.  The almond brittle contrasted all the textures and flavors quite well.  It’s crunch, and sweet yet partially saltiness, brought about an experience driven by ecstasy.

As we paid, our servers brought us two homemade truffles, which were the perfect nightcap to a decadent evening.  At the end of the night, I realized that while the service was boring, especially in comparison to the waitstaff at Bresca, they were still helpful.  The table wasn’t nearly as bad as I assumed it would be- I don’t think it bothered me once while eating or conversing.  And the price was well worth the late Tuesday night I chose to go to Hugo’s over doing fours hours of homework.

e

Who doesn’t love chocolate? I guess I’m speaking in general terms right now- because I actually know a few who hate chocolate.  But let’s be real, chocolate is one of those delicacies that can’t be topped by too many things.  Ask me what I like to eat when I am sick or sad, and I’ll either tell you fried chicken, or chocolate ice creme.  Combined they’re not the best, but separately they’re both tastes of heaven.  So when I was walking around in Montreal and stumbled upon Juliette et Chocolat, I couldn’t resist venturing inside.

With 15 different varieties of made-to-order brownies, traditional hot chocolate, ice cremes, truffles, and imported cacao bars, any chocolate aficionado would weep overwhelming tears of joy.  Along with me was a gang of McGill ladies, and while the line was out of the door, we were seated almost immediately at a large rustic table by a couple of Francophones.  The menus were presented, and I heard a couple of blissful sighs coming from my friends.  I, myself, began to sigh once I saw the menu.  The traditional brownie, the chocolate caramel bomb, Grandma’s Hot chocolate!- How could I decide on just one? Being pragmatic I decided it was best if I stuck with the traditional brownie with walnuts and milk chocolate.  The waitress told me I made a good decision, and I was pleased.  When it was served to me, it was warm, gooey, and delicious.  The chocolate and walnuts worked wonderfully together, and when I bit into the brownie, all of my anxieties melted away.  It was the closest I’ve ever been to an outer-body experience.  That should say a lot.

In addition to my brownie, I decided to get a bowl of Grandma’s hot chocolate.  It was served to me in a little white pitcher with a frothy and smooth texture.  This was certainly the best hot chocolate I’ve ever had, and I think it’s because it is only made with milk and melted milk chocolate.  They’re whisked together to create this heavenly light hot chocolate, that is milky and delicious.  There was a hint of cinnamon and vanilla, but the chocolate was just so delicate and almost floral-esque.

My friend Erika decided on the chocolate caramel bomb, which was simply a chocolate molten cake, filled with caramel, served with a caramel gelato.  This was pure decadence, and while you might think it not wise to indulge in this often, I think it’s certainly a weekly possibility.  Everyone needs a bit of sweetness in their life- in reference to food.  Chocolate is the one sweet that can change your mood for the better.  It’s an experience in itself, and there isn’t anything that can emulate what you feel when you eat a piece of chocolate.

Speaking of chocolate bars- this Dolfin Early Grey chocolate blew my mind.  The taste of Earl Grey was powerful, but it was delicious.  The herbal hints mixed with the smokiness of the dark chocolate were revolutionary.  It obviously beat all American chocolate bars- so death to the Hershey Bar, and long live Dolfin Earl Grey!

-e

what to expect from me in the upcoming future (and trust me, i will be posting quite frequently)

hugo’s blind taste menu and review
district review
rosemary honey ice cream recipe
white chocolate coconut cupcakes with rosewater infused buttercreme
pullman montreal

sorry i’ve been MIA, i had the SATs this past weekend so I crammed the week before.  I’m trying to create a set schedule for posts though- so hopefully i’ll have that all straightened out soon!

e

As I took a sharp right out of the Welcome Centre at Concordia, my face was met with the harsh cold that I adapted to rather quickly during my visit to Montreal.  I realized that I needed to get inside right away, as to write down my immediate impressions of the school, so as I continued down Maisonneuve Blvd, I was impressed by the countless options of places to dine.  There was the oh so familiar Eggspection on the opposite side of the road, and a Starbucks to my right.  But I didn’t want to sit in another American Joint, so instead, I decided to go into Bistro M, which while not exactly my scene, served really delicious macaroons and espresso.

I asked my waiter for three of his favorite macaroons and an espresso.  Maybe five minutes later he returned with caramel, pistachio, and strawberry macaroons and a steaming hot espresso.  The bitter brew was nice because of the bitter cold, and the macaroons were incredibly sweet and crunchy.  The fillings were all delicious- specifically the pistachio, which ended up being my favorite.  While Bistro M may not be considered your typical coffee spot, it could offer as a nice lunch place that is somewhat relaxed.  The sandwich and pastry selection were extensive and looked delicious.  Perhaps next time I will sit down for a longer meal!

-enfin

Everybody has a dream of going somewhere that they’ve always wanted to go.  And while I have a long list, which is headlined with Holland, Paris, Hanoi, Tokyo, and St. Petersburg, for the past three years, I’ve been dying to go to Krista Kern Desjarlais’s Bresca.  From the moment I saw it walking home from a trip to Norm’s BBQ on the East End, about three years ago, I began daydreaming about what a meal would be like in this intimate, rustic eatery.  I peered inside the front window and discovered the seven lonely tables (oddly similar to Snow White & the Seven Dwarves) which were decorated with crisp white napkins, sparkling crystal glasses, and finely cut silverware.  There were stars in my eyes on that first day, and ever since, at the slightest mention of Bresca, my desire to go and dine has been overwhelming.  Obviously over the course of three years, one’s expectations are profound and romanticized.  And it should be mentioned that my expectations for most restaurants are often too high and are rarely met.  But Bresca is just one of those rare cases which meets every expectation and goes an extra nine yards further.  I was partially pleased that Bresca was not participating in restaurant week- however upon sitting down at one of the seven tables, the waitress placed in front of me a prixe fix menu, and explained that was all Desjarlais was offering for the upcoming weeks.  $40 a person is an incredibly deal, so in essence Bresca was participating in Maine Restaurant week, however they just didn’t want to be labeled as a participant.  Our reservation was for 8pm and we had to wait about 15 minutes before being seated, but it was well worth it, and while you may not believe me, I actually didn’t mind waiting.  Since working in the restaurant industry I’ve become much more sympathetic for restaurants because sometimes people show up late for their reservation, or spend too much time thinking over the menu, or they just enjoy hanging out.  So I scratched that off of the possible list of faults, and instead made due with looking around at the collection of pictures and small French tchotchke strewn about.  To make this review a bit more inclusive and cohesive I am breaking it down into five categories: the foreword (you just read it if you’re here), food, service, atmosphere, and the afterword.

First off I should let you know that this will be the lengthiest section in this entire review.  The food is the biggest part of what makes Bresca so incredible.  If you check out the website, it’s pretty evident that Bresca has a nice collection of wines and beers.  Anna and I opted for a bottle of the Piemonte Barbera, which hails from the Alba region in Barbaresco ($34- which is reasonably priced).  This red is dark and seductive, with strong undertones of cherry, and something that might slightly represent birch bark.  The waitress described it as meaty, and while I oftentimes disagree with what waitstaff says, I whole-heartedly agree with her.  A rich meatiness, that is incredibly rustic at the same time.  It transitioned well from course to course, and even in the end when I was finishing with a buttermilk Panna Cotta, the flavour of the Barbera worked harmoniously.  There were moments where it felt spicy on the palate, and others where it flowed like a cascade over the tongue.  The earthiness was versatile, and ended up being what made the Barbera so drinkable in the first place.

For my first course I chose the braised tuscan black kale with a 6 minute egg, crispy pancetta, kombu butter, and charred multigrain bread.  I ought to let you know, that even three days after eating at Bresca, I still don’t know what was the star of this dish.  The tuscan black kale, was cooked to absolute perfection, tender- with no resemblance to steamed greens.  There was still a little bit of a bite left to the kale, which contrasted nicely with the poached egg.  In my food journal I wrote down “possibly the best poached egg I’ve ever had in my entire life-” yes, I said possibly, but I’d like to make a correction.  It was without a doubt the best poached egg I’ve ever had.  The whites were delightful, and the yoke was runny and exploded onto the white plate beneath, where it mixed harmoniously with the kombu butter that was also prepared.  The pancetta was crisp and salty.  On top of the bread with a piece of the poached egg, the meat acted as a wonderful device which spoke solely of indulgence and savoriness.

Anna chose the Bit o Bresca which consisted of a date stuffed with gorgonozola and proscuitto, shaved brussels, toasted walnuts, Parmesan, Pecorino and olive oil (which I must add was the best olive oil I’ve ever tasted), and Pecorino Cheese with local honeycomb.  Mum swooned over the date and the Pecorino with local honeycomb, because as she put it, the flavors worked “oh so wonderfully”.  The brussels retained a strong natural flavor, and even though they were served raw, I couldn’t tell they were the veggie that everyone – besides myself- hates.

Deciding on what pasta dish I wanted was perhaps the easiest part of the entire evening.  The Fregola Sarda with winter tomato sauce, petite potatoes, sauteed herbs and Littleneck Clams.  When I think of Fregola, I think authentic Italian alfresco dining.  When I think of clams, I immediately think of this past summer eating steamers in Pemaquid.  Naturally I don’t think Fregola and Clams.  But perhaps I should start thinking that way.  The clams were cooked so well, and I’m not just saying that to be friendly.  I had clams the evening before, and while I thought those were good at the time, now I feel like they were too chewy and not succulent enough.  Bresca’s clams however were indeed succulent.  They were well cleaned (thank god for that), and they tasted so fresh.  Fregola for those who don’t know, is similar to couscous but bigger.  The winter tomato sauce was light, but absolutely creamy and rich.  Strewn throughout the body of the sauce were little julienned basil leaves, which brought that familiar taste of spring and summer into my mouth.  But before I forget, I should also tell you about the petite potatoes.  The cutest little spuds I ever did see! The skins popped right off after I bit into each potato, and the natural earthiness supported the freshness of the herbs.  There has only been one other time in my life where I thought a potato had been perfectly prepared (coincidentally, it was the night before).

Anna chose the Srozzapreti, which had pancetta, rogue snow peas, brown butter and sage sauce, and fresh parmasean cheese.  While she liked the concept of the dish, and enjoyed the taste, she soon became bored, and found the portion to be too generous.  For me, I thought that too.  A brown butter sage sauce oftentimes can be a bit too much, especially for a large bowl of pasta with pancetta and parmasean cheese.  Regardless, the rogue snow peas were delicious and crisp.  I thought that they complimented the dish rather nicely, if I do say so myself.

You all know that I’m a sucker for duck.  I always have been, and I always will be.  But when I saw what Bresca was offering for entree options, I don’t think I’ve ever been more excited.  Not only would I be receiving duck- but I’d be getting polenta too! The honey glazed duck breast with roman trading spices (I’m so curious about what these are…), frisee, soft marscarpone polenta, roasted grapes in a sumac reduction was even beautiful in the description.  I asked for my duck to be cooked medium, even though I tend to order it well done.  This however, I feel was the right choice, because the duck was so juicy and so flavorful, I don’t think I can ever consume anytime of poultry without remembering how delicious this duck was.  The roman trading spices and the honey worked nicely with the duck because they were just undertones, and the natural flavor of the duck was the real star.  The soft marscarpone polenta was even better than I could have imagined.  I’m used to polenta fritters with jalapenos diced up and included.  Or I’m used to the Corner Room’s Polenta with Pecorino cheese on top.  But I feel like I can say I never thought polenta could be prepared so well.  A lot of folks hate polenta because of its strong resemblance to grits (which I must admit I’m quite fond of), but this one bore no resemblance.  Instead it was soft and warm and melty and gooey.  Imagine a superfine au gratin with marscarpone and fresh cracked pepper.  It was that good.  The roasted grapes were a minor element in the dish, however they were fantastic.  They almost tasted like applesauce when you bit into the fruit itself.  The sumac was wonderful, and provided the desire that not too many sauces have done for me in the past few years- to lick the dish clean.

When I went to the Portland Food Blogger’s cocktail hour a few weeks ago, everyone told me to get the Buttermilk Panna Cotta when I went to Bresca.  I listened to them because of their rants, but also because I love Panna Cotta.  I had what I thought was the best Panna Cotta this past June at Street & Co.  It was rich and creamy and had black currants on top.  Perhaps it was the black currants that did it for me, because at that moment, I was sold on the idea that Panna Cotta is a delicacy that should be savored.  Bresca’s offering was presented on a handwritten dessert list, along with two other items that could be purchased.  Buttermilk Panna Cotta- in a passion fruit broth, with white pepper & orange blossom sorbet, along with fresh passion fruit, mango, strawberries, blackberries and mint.  It was delicate and intricate, cremey and tangy, the acidity cut by the passion fruit, mango and fresh mint.  The only thing I could think of when I was sipping the passion fruit broth was, “This is what Tahiti must taste like!” The tropical fruit matched the hints of vanilla in the panna cotta.  Not to mention the white pepper & orange blossom sorbet was like biting into a lavender sachet.  It exploded in my mouth and teased each and every one of my tastebuds.  Decadent, sour and pure, I don’t think I’ve ever had a better dessert.

As you can tell, if you’ve made it this far, the food lacked nothing, and exceeded my expectations in most cases.  In fact, it even got to the point where I realized that this was the exact reason why I love food so much- because it can evoke so many emotions, convey so many stories, and take your palate on an exciting journey.  But the food isn’t the only aspect of a restaurant that should be judged.  Service, for example, can easily make or break an experience, and in the past I’ve been ruthless (see Figa review- which was well-deserved).  But come on.  Do you really think that Bresca could let me down on an area such as service? You’re right.  They didn’t.  In fact, until this meal, it was uncontested that the best service in town was at 555, because it almost seems like the waiters are waiting for you to drop a crumb so they can pick it up for you.  But the waitstaff at Bresca was quite attentive, kind, and accommodating.  They had a good knowledge base of the wine they served as well as the menu itself.  Course after course, they would clear the table in a timely manner, replace my salad fork with a dinner fork, and my dinner fork with a pastry fork.  Their overall demeanor was approachable and pleasant, and by the end of the evening I felt as though I could easily carry on a conversation with either of them regarding the restaurant business, the weather, or what’s going on in the world.  That’s right.  They were that good.

Perhaps it was the ambiance and aesthetic of Bresca that first captured my attention.  A restaurant as intimate as Bresca, only hosting 19 seats and 7 tables, would automatically be considered romantic.  And I agree, it is very romantic, but that’s not all.  The displayed artwork is rather worldly- many shots are from Rome and Paris, and the walls painted with chalkboard paint are playful yet unique.  The displayed wines are absolutely beautiful, they captured my attention the moment I walked in.  And even the close vicinity in which you sit to your neighbors works in favor of Bresca.  The couple sitting next to us was very kind, and we engaged in conversation about Vin et Grub and the quality of the food we were consuming.  There’s something about Bresca that’s just so whimsical, and even after I’ve eaten there, the magic behind the closed door is still a mystery.  There wasn’t a single thing about Bresca that could be improved.  From the 7 seats to the handwritten dessert menu, Bresca encompasses what I’ve always wanted in a restaurant.  Not to mention the staff is entirely female, which makes me love it even more.

It goes without saying that my meal at Bresca was by far the best meal I’ve ever had.  It redefined eating and reaffirmed my passion.  I’ve always felt that my expectations are a bit lofty, but Bresca met each and everyone of them.  The only thing I can think to compare Bresca to is a Chanel Purse.  It’s classic and it’s a luxury item.  Indulging is well worth the price and the wait, especially because spots fill up two weeks in advance.  I certainly recommend taking a trip to Bresca- especially when you feel like spoiling yourself rotten and changing your perspective on the food you eat.

-e

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 68 other followers