December 12, 2006

of spoons and other demons

Growing up in Russia, we had access to very few processed foods. For that reason, all foods had to be prepared at home with fresh ingredients. Everything was homemade. We used butter and oil, never once thought about cholesterol and if anyone mentioned “transfat”, one would have asked for the word’s definition.

Perhaps it is for the reasons of freshness, simplicity and all things organic, that I instantly fell in love with Le Pain Quotidien the first time I set food in there. A Belgian chain, scattered all over the world, the eatery turns out simple pastries, soups, salads and sandwiches. Most of the ingredients, including their teas, are organic and there are plenty of vegetarian options, complimented by reasonable prices. Plenty of fresh vegetables and radishes (radishes!) on sandwiches! It’s pure heaven for me.

So when a friend of mine and I made a lunch date at my local Le Pain, I thought it’d be a perfect opportunity to take a few pictures, make a few notes about what I ate, and turn it into a blogging post. Not quite.

Immediately after I sat down and pulled my camera out and put it to the side, a waiter came over.

“That’s a nice camera,” he commented.
“Yes, I quite like it.”

While normally happy to chat, I wanted to get some water and to be left alone so I could finetune the camera for its inside use. It just wasn’t happening.

“I also like photography,” the waiter continued, “I like to take pictures of flowers.”
“Flowers are nice,” I responded.
“So you like to take pictures too?”
”Yes, I do.”
“Me too.”
“Yes.”

And then there was silence. He lingered. I fidgeted with my camera and reached for my cell phone to keep busy.

The waiter wandered off.

Still waterless, I turned to my camera again, this time able to focus it on a spoon to test a few shots.

“So, you like taking pictures of spoons?”

Another waiter was standing by, no water in sight.

“Um, I was just tuning my camera.”
“Sure you were. You like like to photograph spoons.”
“You got me. Yes. Spoons are my passion.”
“I bet you have a whole collection of spoon pictures at home.”
“Naturally, they hang all over my apartment. May I have some water please?”
“Certainly, right away.”

And with that, I diverted attention and pretended to be making phone calls. And still, before my friend showed up, a few other waiters came over to have the I-too-like-photography chat.

And with that I was too annoyed to think about food. I understand chatting with waiters, and I understand being friendly, but sometimes you are just not in the mood to talk. Sometimes you just don’t have that “talkative” body language. And sometimes you just want to be left alone with your camera playing with the settings and functions.

Oh yes, and the food was lovely – mine was a curried chicken salad sandwich with a berry relish and my friend’s was a mozzarella prosciutto one drizzled with pesto. We had tea to finish off the meal and it was delightful. But I was truly derailed in my food focus – and I’m still annoyed by how the waiters were way too familiar and informal. Le Cirque this is not, and need not be. But I simply couldn’t take pictures of our food when half the wait staff were asking me questions about photography, what lenses I used, and what my inspiration was. So you get pictures of spices and a fork, which I took in an act of defiance.

Because sometimes, you just gotta photograph a spoon. Or in my case, a fork.

January 26, 2006

Wallsé

In New York, where restaurants open and close at the drop of a hat, and you hardly have your shortage of incredible, gourmet, must-try-it-or-you're-missing-out restaurants. Every week, someone will talk about something new that opened, or somewhere new they've dined and loved. And yet, most of us living in the city, will not return to our top-notch restaurants because let's face it, there's more buzz about new ones in the city and we're not made of money. I've friends who treat themselves to Craft on special occassions. They keep going back, one experience more sublime than the prior. Personally, I've eaten at Craft, liked it, but didn't find the process so awe-inspiring, that I had to return anytime soon. As much as I love food and the idea of simplicity...

I took my boyfriend to Wallsé a few months ago. I heard good things about the place, liked that it was small and intimate, was intrigued by Austrian cuisine, having never really tasted it, and fascinated by an abundant selection of Austrian red wine, something rarely found in US wine shops. I went, apprehensively. Last time, I took him out for a fancy meal, we got a lot of foam on our dishes. One dish, the foie gras, was foam entirely. And while I am all for creativity and experimentation, foam seemed like a bit of a stretch for me, and a pretentious one to boot.

Wallsé turned out to lack pretenses, instead focusing their energy on perfecting their dishes. For our appetizers, we started out with a palachinken, a crepe stuffed with smoked trout, apples, horseradish and organic herbs; and a spätzle with braised rabbit, wild mushrooms sweet peas and tarragon.

It was unbelievable. What an amazing start to a meal. Kurt Guttenbruner, the executive chef and owner of Wallsé, didn't want us to wait for the main course, in order for us to be blown away. And the main course did not disappoint. A venison loin with a sweet and sour red cabbage and honey-glazed duck breast with swiss chard were both outstanding. We walked out of the restaurant as if floating on air.

For months on end, my boyfriend wouldn't stop talking about the braised rabbit. And to tell the truth, I was craving it myself. So when we were trying to figure out where to have our anniversary dinner - we agreed that we had to go back to Wallse. In a city where you can dine at some of the best restaurants in the world, a return visit is indeed something rare and special.

While my boyfriend decided to stick with the braised rabbit again, I, promising him to share, ordered the foie gras terrine - a dish so heavenly, that he wound up eating most of it! He stuck with duck for the main course, while I, trying to be adventurous, dared to get the kavalierspitz with creamed spinach, potato rösti and apple horseradish - which did not disappoint. Kavalierspitz are thinly sliced beef medallions, cooked in a fragrant broth - apparently a real Austrian specialty. By the end of our meal, we were stuffed. And yet we started talking about our next time visiting the restaurant.

While we were too full for dessert, we did snack on their house-creation meal-ender -- chocolate-covered almonds, which were delicious, and I was tempted to just pour the whole dish into my napkin and sneak them out.

It should be noted, that Wallsé has an extensive wine list offering only Austrian wines. Given that it's rather difficult to procure Austrian reds in the US, this is a great opportunity to sample an Austrian red - something most of us are probably not too familiar with.

Perhaps Wallsé isn't the answer to haute cuisine. I'm not sure it's trying to be. It's food prepared with the most meticulous attention to detail, but food that's meant to be eaten rather than admired. And that, is the highest compliment I can give to a chef and his creation.

I cannot recommend this place enough - it's lovely in its service, its content; it's not too large and while it's pricey, it's not the most expensive restaurant, but certainly one of the best!