Rooftop Gourmet

Today marks the 100th blog post on Rooftop Gourmet! It’s been ten months, lots of great food and wine, and many hours in the kitchen. Over the better part of last year, a lot has happened. I have learned so much about wine and food, and developed a level of knowledge that I never dreamed I’d reach so soon. You can read wine encyclopedias until your eyeballs pop out of your skull, but truly understanding wine comes from repetitive tasting (and reading while tasting, typically before you taste so that you don’t fall asleep).

 A great example of this is with my fiance Siobhan, who I met during my journey in blogging, and who has been extremely supportive and patient with me throughout the past year. If it wasn’t for her, this site wouldn’t look as professional, wouldn’t get updated in a timely fashion, and the food wouldn’t taste as delicious. She is the unsung hero, who has no voice on this blog, but contributes so much to making it what it is today. She probably wants to throw my laptop over the side of the roofdeck if I ask her to run out for another knob of ginger at 1o:30pm, or ask her to pause between bites for a picture of the cauliflower floret on her fork.

When I met Siobhan she didn’t drink red wine, and the only white she enjoyed was sweet Riesling. Over the course of the year, you could tell she became more open to trying different things, and of course more curious. I started her off with a few sips of my Pinot Noir, and by Christmas she was not only drinking, but thoroughly enjoying powerhouse California Cabs, and aged Bordeaux that reeked of wet leather.

She was like my little guinea pig. Her palate transformed from a “I’ll have a glass of the house Chardonnay” drinker, to a sophisticated wine drinker who can now pinpoint what region of Italy the red wine in her glass is from simply by smelling it.

My cooking techniques have become more elaborate and precise over the past year, and my food imagination has run completely wild. After the third week in September I thought I’d run out of ideas and have to shut down the website. Instead, I have a notepad in my Blackberry that has a list of ideas longer than my address book.

For the first couple weeks, I didn’t even have a camera. I just scrolled back to the beginning of the site to reminisce and realized that my blog posts were awful. Once I got my new camera, I did more research on food photography than I did for my senior year thesis. I now see food in a whole different light and love the artistic aspect it has. I have met so many fantastic people throughout the past year and reconnected with people whom I never thought read my site, and bonded over food or wine. I realized that not only cooking relaxes me but writing does as well and reconfirmed that the best feeling in the world is watching someone eat your food and hearing people say that they love reading about it.

In honor of my 100th blog post, my father gave me something special that he had stored away in his wine cellar for the past twenty years. Even though I have included it in this post, I must admit, I didn’t get a chance to open it this past weekend because everyone was away for the holiday, and Siobhan and I weren’t going to drink or bathe in six liters of Opus One. He was gracious enough to part with his 6.0 Liter (Imperial) bottle of 1980 Opus One, as long as we open it when he’s in attendance.

 It’s about time, because he just may have sat on this bottle a tad long. The prime drinking years for this vintage of Opus ended about four years ago, but then again the shelf life extends longer as the bottle gets bigger. This is only the second vintage of Opus One ever made which is now a brand name, and what once was a collaborative project between Robert Mondavi and Baron Phillipe de Rothschild.

This juice was bottled when these two pioneers, now hall of famers, were in their prime; two years before I was even born. I may be a little optimistic… but this has to still be amazing. Stay tuned to the day in the near future when we pop the dusty cork on this time capsule and see how the 1980 has held up over the years.

For my 100th post, I let Siobhan take over during the day when I was at work, because as a school teacher, she can only sit at the pool for so long during the day. Her task was to create a delicious side dish for the American Kobe beef flat iron steaks that I was picking up on the way home from work. She has a huge sweet tooth and has been bugging me to do a dessert blog for some time now, and I think this was her way of sneaking it in.

She ended up making a roasted corn creme brulee’ which was one of the most amazing side dishes to a simple piece of steak that I have ever had. Every steak house in the country should throw this on their menu in between mashed potatoes and Mac n Cheese. She simply roasted the fresh corn in their husks and then cut all of the kernels off the cobs. Roasting the corn in the husk retains so much more flavor than boiling them, which was what we were going for in this dish.

She macerated the warm kernels in heavy cream and milk for about twenty minutes to infuse the flavor and then got started with a custard base. She vigorously whisked eight egg yolks with some granulated sugar until they lightened in color and became gluey. With the boat motor, she pureed the corn kernels and heavy cream together before slowly adding it to the bowl. After the last drop fell into the bowl, the “batter” was incorporated and bright yellow. She divided the batter into all the ramekins she could find in the cupboards and placed them into a 325 degree oven.

A water bath around the ramekins helped cook the creme brulee evenly. I walked in the door when the cooking was almost complete and the entire condo smelled like roasted, buttered popcorn. She slid the ramekins out of the oven when they were still jiggly and let them cool in the refrigerator with plastic wrap until it was time to brulee’. In the meantime, I leaned over the countertop, admiring the impressive marbling in my flat iron steak.

American Kobe is a less expensive knock-off of the authentic Wagyu Kobe which comes from Japanese cows, fed strictly walnuts and beer, and massaged and bathed in Sake everyday. The result is a fatty, but evenly dispersed fatty, unbelievably flavorful beef. If only the #24 Kobe was as fat and lazy as this group of livestock, the Celtics might have an extra banner hanging from the rafters this summer. I didn’t want to take anything away from this ideal cut of beef, so I simply seasoned it with salt and freshly cracked pepper before throwing it on my grill. When it was just under medium rare in temperature, I slathered a dollop of black truffle butter on top of the steak and let the juices run into the flesh, and again with more butter while it was resting (welcome to Steakhouse 101).

I sliced the flat iron on the bias, against the grain to achieve maxium tenderness and it was perfectly pink and warm in the center. At the last minute before serving, Siobhan sprinkled some coarse sugar on top of the corn custard and threw it under the broiler to brulee’, or torch (note to self… register for a blow torch before your wedding). Quickly, the sugar carmelized and formed that crispy, rich crust that was just begging to be cracked minutes later by my fork. I plated the two heavenly, 100th blog post specials on the cover of the Opus One “coffin” that holds this massive bottle. As the primal flavor of beef at its best melted in my mouth, I took a bite of the fresh, sweet corn creme brulee that wasn’t too sweet and wasn’t too savory, and leaned back in my chair dreaming of what the Opus would taste like. Even though I was Opus-less, I thought back to all of the previous 99 dinners that we ate together, and wines that we shared and was the happiest I have ever been.

You either love them or you hate them. A great Bloody Mary will either make you barf, or prevent you from puking up last night’s bar tab. This classic drink, said to have been created at Harry’s Bar in the 1920’s, is famous for curing the dreaded hangover. The basic combination of equal parts vodka and tomato juice has been put through years of makeovers by bartenders everywhere, claiming their own “signature” Bloody Mary.

 As a Bloody Mary aficionado (I’m not always hungover I swear) I have seen everything from smoked green tomato puree to a tall Bloody garnished with a handful of Slim Jims. My two all-time favorite places to wash one down is in the parking lot of Gillette Stadium, pre-Patriots game, and at the make-your-own Bloody Mary bar at East Coast Grill in Cambridge, MA. Both are amazing in their own way. Making your own batch the night before, so thick that you can leave the straws at home, and standing in your snow boots at 9am talking football, or hovering over 40 different condiments with a pint glass full of ice, preparing for the best brunch in town.

The best thing about a Bloody Mary is that all of the ingredients, no matter what they are, are so bold in flavor that it awakes not only your tastebuds, but all of your senses too; Spicy, salty, sweet, bitter… and boozy.

Last night, I took some of the most popular Bloody Mary staples and created a fish dish to pay homage to my favorite Sunday morning beverage. I bought a thick and meaty piece of fresh Halibut to serve as the canvas for my Bloody Mary Halibut. I started off preparing my tomato sauce by toasting some sliced garlic and crushed chile flakes to give the dish some heat.

After the sauce simmered away on the stovetop for about twenty minutes, I added a few dashes of Tabasco to give it that tangy, vinegar kick to it. The sauce wasn’t meant to be a huge part of the dish, so I had a heavy hand when kicking up the heat. My goal was to make my forehead start to perspire as it does while lurched over a tall Bloody Mary at the bar. The next thing I did was wash off a few stalks of celery, which are typically served as a garnish. I thinly shaved them on a bias and tossed them in a bowl with parsley, lemon juice and a little Extra Virgin Olive Oil. Celery adds a bitter, freshness to the classic recipe as well as a powerful crunch. A gremolata is an Italian “condiment” that is usually sprinkled over braised dishes to liven them up, such as Veal Osso Bucco.

 It normally consists of anchovies, lemon zest, and fresh parsley that is ground in a mortar and pestle. I decided to make a gremolata with lemon zest, fresh parsley and chopped green olives because all of those flavors are tied into a Bloody Mary. Most drinks are usually garnished with a lemon wedge and a few green olives that are usually fished out of the bottom of the ice with your celery stalk.

 I peeled the nasty layer off of the fresh horseradish root and revealed its ivory, white flesh. Immediately, I could smell the pungent zip that closely resembles the flavor of wasabi. Horseradish has a specific type of heat that is totally different than the heat in the tomato sauce. Unlike the Capsaicin that comes from chilie peppers and punches you in the tastebuds and numbs your tongue, the heat from horseradish root clears your sinuses by sending a rush of sneeze-inducing fumes through your nose. Sounds painful but I am a sucker for punishment and absolutely love it.

 I grated the fresh root and crusted the top of the halibut filet with the coconut-like shavings before baking it in the oven until the flesh was opaque. The crust toasted into a delicious golden brown color and I sprinkled the fresh gremolata on top. I placed the fish on a streak of the fiery tomato sauce and plated some refreshing, shaved celery salad on the side. One of the main components in your typical Bloody Mary mix was not left out.

Worcestershire Sauce is usually added to give the mix a little more depth and character. I made a sticky, Worcestershire Sauce reduction and drizzled it in the corner of the plate. When you ran your fork through every component on the plate, the flavors of a classic Bloody Mary all came together in an elegant seafood dish. The crispy horseradish crust protected the moist, flaky fish. The heat from the tomato sauce was tamed by the cool, celery salad, and the reduction and gremolata side-swiped your palate with rich and salty flavors. I paired this deconstructed cocktail dish with an intriguing wine from Salento, Italy.

The 2008 Li Veli Primonero is a unique blend (kind of like vodka and tomato juice) of Primitivo and Negromaro grapes. The Primitivo (Italian Zinfandel) is picked in early August and produces fresh, ripe fruit flavors, while the Negromaro is picked in late September, producing dark fruit and earthy flavors. The stark difference in picking times, and styles of the grapes combine to make a very well balanced, food-friendly wine. The color is deep ruby purple, with fresh berries on the nose and a velvety mouthfeel. The wine is medium bodied and rich with a finish that Italians would say is, “full of finesse”. This is a one of a kind blend that shows that new and innovative winemaking in an Old World wine country is on the rise. After a meal like this, I am anxiously looking forward to football season or at least maybe some more 10am World Cup Soccer matches, where Bloody Mary will be in attendance.

Grilled cheese reminds me of my childhood and I’m pretty sure that memory goes for most people as well. When I was little, I would go to friend’s houses to play and their parents would make us grilled cheese sandwiches for after school snacks and I noticed that everyone’s parents made it a little bit differently. Differently than my mother would at least. I was used to classic white bread and four slices of orange Kraft Singles, slowly toasted in a skillet with a little bit of butter. That was my childhood staple.

Whenever I’d come inside from playing in the yard, I’d whine to my mom, “I’m hungryyyy!!!”, and this was a quick solution that she didn’t mind spending two minutes to fix. As I got older, my perception of grilled cheese evolved… and I noticed my mother’s love for grilled cheese too. I’d have a couple friends sleep over and we’d ask my mom to make us some of her by then, famous grilled cheeses. I started to notice that my mother would always burn the first one and pretend like she was upset by it, but later I realized that she had a thing for burnt grilled cheeses. Somehow, that first ”mistake” always disappeared.

When I got to college, my concept of grilled cheese changed again. When I wasn’t eating twelve of them in one sitting, I was busy stuffing them with cheese Doritos and dipping them in con queso or blue cheese dressing. Probably the reason I put on the freshman thirty, but at least I was being creative with my comfort food that reminded me of home. Now, I still appreciate the classic Kraft contraption every once in a while, but I also can’t resist getting gourmet with my grilled cheese.

The other day, my school teacher fiance called me up at lunchtime because she had a craving for grilled cheese after working lunch duty in the cafeteria of her middle school. I told her, “great idea!”, but she had no idea what I had in store for her when she got home.

I wanted to pair different cheeses with different types of bread to create three of the ultimate grilled cheese sandwiches, in three different styles. Wine wasn’t the route to go with this blog so I opted to pair each sandwich with a different craft beer. Let’s face it… beer and cheese are a match made in heaven (just ask Brad Wasik from Wasik’s Cheese Shop in Wellesley center, who offers amazing beer and cheese pairing events from time to time).

My first GCS (Grilled Cheese Sandwich) started off on the light side (ironic, I know). I crumbled up some local goat cheese and spread it in between two slices of fresh sourdough bread. Taking notes from my mother, I slowly toasted it in a skillet with some butter until both sides were golden brown and the goat cheese oozed out of the sides. This became my early favorite because the sourdough toast and the tangy goat cheese were amazing together.

I poured a tall glass of Chimay Cinq Cents Gold Label, which is a traditional Belgian Wheat Ale, and watched as the foamy head settled to the top. I was shocked at how aromatic this beer was, almost more aromatic than it was flavorful but in a good way. I stuck my nose right into the glass like it was a fine white Burgundy and noticed all of the honey, clove, and yeasty smells. The beer was a hazy golden color and was full of carbonation. It was medium bodied with a bitter, caramel finish that was actually quite pleasant.

My second GCS was created using, freshly sliced pumpernickel loaf and two amazing melting cheeses. I was going for the picture-esque, Kraft television commercial, pull apart shot where the stringy cheese stretches for miles. I layered a slice each of both aged Gruyere and Emmental cheese, which is kind of like a funky Swiss.

 It was a good thing that the pumpernickel toasted quicker than the sourdough because these cheeses broke down fast and started to drip down the sides of the bread. The Gruyere is my type of cheese… super funky! and when it gets warm, the smell gets better and better. It was a really cool combination with the nutty, roasted malt flavors in the pumpernickel.

This is the GCS that you don’t want to serve to your children if you don’t know how to perform the HeimlichManeuver! I paired this one with a bottle of Samuel Smith Nut Brown Ale. This comes from an old English Brewery that has been making beer for hundreds of years. It’s much darker in color and has a significantly lower level of carbonation. The nose smelled of sweet apples and flowers but when I tasted it, it was rich and nutty. It had a cola-like mouthfeel, and almost tasted like toasted pumpernickel bread and toffee. It was like a New Castle on steroids!

My last creation was by far my favorite GCS and the richest one as well. I spread tons of creamy Gorgonzola (Italy’s blue cheese) in between two slices of dense, cinnamon-raisin bread and performed the same toasting procedure. I paired these two odd balls together because with a cheese that is so rich and full of mind boggling flavor, it would have considerably dominated a wimpy slice of Wonder. I needed a bread that had an equal amount of wallop to combat the Gorgonzola, so I chose one that was studded with plump raisins and laced with sweet cinnamon. Let me just say, that I have officially created a monster. The raisins caramelized with the toast and the blue veins just oozed out into the pan.

The love affair of sweet and savory was the most incredible GCS combination of the night. I paired this one with a bottle of Schlafly Reserve Barleywine Ale from Missouri. The beer was a burnt orange color and smelled like vanilla and sweet oak. I had never had a barleywine ale before but I really enjoyed this beer. Just like the GCS, it was a perfect balance of earthy and sweet. Tons of bourbon and maple flavors combined with a dry, creamy finish. After three giant craft beers, and three different, super rich, grilled cheese sandwiches it was time to revert back to my childhood once again and take a much needed nap.

I’ve never quite understood the motive behind an open faced sandwich. What is the point of removing the top layer of bread that classifies it as a sandwich in the first place? Is it a precautionary move for sandwiches with too much sauce? Was it created by someone who was trying really hard to stick to the Atkins diet? In Austria and Germany, where open faced sandwiches are common, liver, beef tongue, and head cheese are piled on top of slices of white bread. Wouldn’t you want to hide those stomach turning proteins with an extra slice of Wonderbread?

The reality of the open faced sandwich dates back to the Middle Ages when huge slabs of stale bread known as “trenchers” were used as dinner plates. After the meal, the food-soaked “trenchers” were fed to the dogs or to beggars.

Sunday afternoon was my last chance to have full access to my grill because the builders were coming Monday morning to start constructing our new and improved roofdeck, so I took full advantage of the space and cranked up the propane.

I gave some salmon filets a heavy dusting of ancho chili powder until the already pink flesh turned a deep brick red. The particular chili powder I used had a moderate amount of heat to it so I needed a sauce that would cool down the tastebuds without masking the flavor. Instead reaching for the sour cream, I chose the healthy alternative; 0% fat, plain Greek yogurt. Plain Greek yogurt is like a blank canvas that can transform into any type of flavor imaginable depending on what you add to it.

I have a slight obsession with the combination of chilies and limes. I snack on chili-lime almonds, I dowse my corn on the cob in homemade chili-lime butter, and I add a sliced Serrano chili to my Coronas. That being said, I decided to infuse the yogurt with the zest of six limes and the juice of one lime. After some salt and a slight whipping, the creamy yogurt was speckled with Celtic green and tasted citrusy and tangy.

As soon as my grill was preheated, I wiped down the grates and oiled them, which I usually do when I grill fish. It’s just an added security measure that I take to ensure that the fish doesn’t stick to the grates. Nothing frustrates me more than prying a beautiful piece of fish off the grill, only to watch half of it flake off into a pile of ashes.

 Smoky chili powder aromas filled the warm air as soon as the salmon hit the grill. I closed the lid and let the mouth watering smoke permeate the cast iron drum while I went back inside to slice the bread. Once the fish was flipped, I grilled some slices of Italian Ciabatta bread until the top was charred and crusty. I topped my trencher with a drizzle of quality Extra Virgin Olive Oil and my chili-rubbed salmon filet.

While the fish was still smoking hot, I drizzled the creamy, lime-yogurt sauce over the top and let it run all over the plate. I wanted to eat this sandwich so bad, I almost forgot to take pictures. Thankfully, the wine I chose had a screwcap because I wasn’t wasting any time with a cork screw. The 2007 Chateau Chateau “Skulls” Grenache-Mouvedre is quite the amazing wine. I can’t decide what’s cooler… the wine itself or the artwork on the label.

The optical play on the label is an illustration called, “Ship of Fools”, by artist Istvan Orosz. Up close, you see a black and white sketch of a man adorned in a robe, struggling to climb up two separate trees. His limbs are flailing just as much as the limbs of the trees are and he is dangling along the coast of some body of water. In the background, there is a tiny ship that seems to be transporting a nest of eggs in the water, but it also appears to be attached to the tree by a rope.

This is one of those optical illusions because when you back away from the bottle, all you can see is a giant human skull. If Salvador Dali and Robert Mondavi had a child, this is what it would look like. When I was done getting hypnotized by the label, I actually took a sip of this wine and was blown away. The way it felt on my palate was sleek and sexy. The texture was so smooth and velvety, and it was bursting with earthy cherry, and cranberry fruit. The color of the wine is ruby-red and it is medium to full bodied. The Chateau Chateau project is all about the study of soil and location. This wine was aged in 100% stainless steel in order to show off what Grenache tastes like when grown in the Barossa Valley, Australia.

This was definitely not the typical “fruit bomb” that I was used to when opening a Barossa Valley red. It has some serious Old World flair to it that is pleasantly approachable. Even though there is tons of fresh fruit up front, there is this underlying, earthy, mushroomy, forest floor thing going on in the background. Kind of like the illustration, there is something obvious in the foreground, but when you take a step back and really look at it, there is more complexity that is hidden in the wine.

It was perfect with the grilled salmon because it stood up to the bold flavors in the dish. The char from the grill was a great match with that earthy component in the wine. Every bite of salmon melted in my mouth and left my lips tingling, which was quickly cooled down by the zesty yogurt sauce. There was so much flavor in this open faced sandwich, you couldn’t have paid me to throw my trencher to the dogs.

Early in the week, my mother took a trip to Lazy Daze farm, just 45 minutes west of Boston, to pick up a brand new Golden Retriever puppy. Not only did she come back with the cutest dog ever, she brought me a present as well. She noticed that the farm was home to a bunch of Araucana chickens and she asked for a dozen of their freshly laid eggs.

The Araucana is not your typical chicken. These guys lay baby blue eggs and have tufts of hair on their cheeks that make them look like Rollie Fingers with a handlebar mustache.

The farm fresh eggs were slightly smaller than the typical, mass produced eggs I normally buy, but they looked like freshly painted Easter eggs! It’s not everyday that you come across farm fresh eggs (unless you live on a farm I guess), so I wanted to celebrate the egg and prepare it three different ways in order show off its versatility.

Poached, fried, and baked are just three of the many ways to eat eggs but three of my favorite nonetheless. The first egg dish that I created is a classic preparation. I roasted some organic asparagus and placed a sunnyside up, fried egg on top of the stalks so that the broken yolk could simulate a creamy Hollandaise.

I topped the dish with some shaved Parmigiano-Reggiano and a drizzle of white truffle oil. The grassy asparagus with a hint of lemon compliments the creamy yolk and the nutty, sharp cheese accentuates the captivating truffle aroma.

The second dish I made is a little bit lighter, but also a classic combination. I made a roasted wild mushroom and frisee salad, tossed with a gentle lemon vinaigrette.

On top of the salad sits a perfectly poached egg filled with a bright golden yolk that’s just itching to burst. I thought that the image of an egg on top of the frisee was slightly ironic because it looked like the green hay that is used to stuff Easter baskets. I don’t know whether it is because the eggs were super fresh or whether it is a typical trait of Araucana eggs, but the yolks were a deep orange color and extra creamier. They had the consistency of a Cadbury egg filling.

The last dish that I made was something unique. I love the combination of acidic, juicy tomatoes and rich, and creamy eggs so I chose to combine them in a baked presentation. I marinated some whole vine ripe tomatoes in olive oil, garlic, shallots, rosemary, and a heaping palmful of dried chili flakes.

 I threw the tomatoes on a fiery grill and let them roast over the open flames until they were just about ready to pop. Once the skin peeled off, it allowed the smoky grill flavors to permeate the flesh.

 I quickly transferred the grilled tomatoes to the blender, where they were pulsed into a chunky puree. I filled a ramekin with the spicy grilled tomato puree and cracked one of the Araucana eggs over it before placing it in a hot oven. While the contents of the ramekin were baking, I made a homemade sourdough crouton that came out perfectly golden brown and crispy. I spooned the baked egg and grilled tomato sauce over the crispy crouton and gave it a splash of nice olive oil and a chiffonade of fresh basil.

The diversity of texture was awesome, and the creamy egg cooled down the spicy sauce. Because the three preparations were vastly different, I chose a wine that would compliment a wide variety of dishes.

 It’s Rose’ season so don’t be embarrassed to hold a big glass of pink (as long as it’s not White Zinfandel). The Rose’ I opened is very different from the classic Rose’s from Provence. The Domaine du Tariquet is from south-west France and is a blend of 40% Merlot, 40% Syrah, and 20% Tannat. The red wine grapes go through the same vinification process that white wine grapes do, giving the wine a Grenadine-like hue to it and some serious body.

 Tannat is a grape that is typically used as a blending grape, but has strong raspberry aromas and high tannins. Of all wine-making grapes, Tannat is proven to be extremely good for your cardiovascular health. It has an extremely high level of Procyanidins, which counteract the effect of high fat diets. Tannat drinkers obtain extreme levels of these compounds which decreases the risk of diabetes and improves overall longevity.

The wine has a pomegranate hue to it, and strong aromas of wild strawberries and rose petals. Despite its full body, the Rose’ is delightfully fresh on the palate and finishes with a salty, spicy note. Rose’s are excellent Spring and Summer wines and they compliment a wide variety of cuisine. Everything from spicy Thai food, to farm fresh poached eggs.

A huge thanks to my mom and the people at Lazy Daze Farm for the fresh Araucana eggs and the addition of Gino, the Golden Retriever to the family.