Go Godello!

I was asked to bring a Godello wine to lunch on Easter, by my picky host (with impeccable taste!), a card-carrying Spain expert. I had been bound by oath not to bring any wine issued by a certain Spanish importer. Okay. Unaccustomed to checking the importer label, I paid for a bottle and left the shop. As the door closed behind me, I remembered. I checked. I reentered the shop, and sheepishly explained my need to exchange the bottle for another. The saleswoman thought that was fine, but wanted me to know that the importer in question is well-respected and personally responsible for having put Spanish wines on the map. I stopped myself from telling her that I had been warned against showing up with anything imported by "that marketing whore". Instead, I smiled. I then chose the wine pictured above, Casal Novo, Godello, Galicia 2009.

Lunch was about an hour and a half out of town by train, and lasted six hours, thanks to leisurely cooking and multiple courses. We opened the bottle (one of five for the six guests present), with a dish of seared scallops and a pomegranate beurre blanc. My host was pretty damn excited about the Casal Novo. And it paired really well with the rich, tart sauce and sweet scallops. The wine is straw-colored, with an intense, bright lemony aroma. It was a little like a lightbulb in a glass and provided some extra spark to the table. On the tongue it was acidic, peachy, and with a pleasant minerality. Pretty yummy. So Mom, if you're reading: pick up a bottle! 

Hanami at Brooklyn Botanical Garden

The Restaurant's Name...Revealed!

Today The New York Times covered Brushstroke, the new restaurant courtesy of David Bouley.

You can also check out my post from the beginning of the month. Just in case anyone was hanging by a thread...the secret restaurant's name was Brushstroke. Ta-dah!

Below, a photo I snapped that night on the way home from the restaurant of some kids that were monkeying around on the subway.

Adventure to the Upper East Side

Down in the seventies and about Lexington you start to see the the heart of the Upper East Side. That is, a clubby little village, with hokey little upscale Italian restaurants, and corny little ladies' shoe shops. There are also sophisticated, very 21st century boutiques, selling high-end beauty products or clothing lines (Hunter makes more than rain boots, I discovered while window shopping). There are large and opulent single-family brownstones off of the avenues, and well-funded foundations, like the sleek Asia Society on the corner of 70th and Park.  Women in their sixties wear pearls. Women in their forties carry dogs. Everyone looks very coiffed, even in tracksuits (they're cashmere).

Most of the locales have been there forever. The York Barber Shop bears that tell-tale New York historical marker, the windowpane lined with tastefully framed autographed black and white photos (in this case of a particularly high caliber, featuring Woody Allen and Dustin Hoffman). At the dignified Mariella pizza the walls are tiled, the pizza orderly, the old men go quietly about their business. Of course,  this is Lexington, not Madison.  So don't expect to escape the 24 hour convenience store which brashly boasts the possession of an ATM in bold, over-large letters. On the other hand, this is a neighborhood, not a mall.

Neil's Coffee Shop is the kind of establishment that makes one feel like the real world has just been left behind for another more interesting one. It begs entrance. Inside, efficient waitstaff, deep booths, vintage kitchen equipment still in use behind the counter, and stained glass (plexiglass?) windows perpetuate the illusion of another time. Rows of autographed black and white photographs peer down smilingly.   Okay, this time it's Jean Luc Picard and George Stephanopoulos up on the wall, not mythical, but still shrouded in household awareness.

The ketchup bottle is empty, and the bottle of Tabasco sauce is a funny brown color and of a curiously thin consistency...could excessive age cause that? The turkey is dry, and a bite of coleslaw provokes a sour grimace...was that skin on top?  But the avocado on the turkey club was fresh, and a hamburger tasted nice, like a nothing-special burger made in the frying pan at home: fresh and comforting and slightly overcooked.

The bill was pretty light, comparative to a brunch out at any coffee chain. And it was amusing to see grumpy looking elderly ladies in fur coats hoist themselves onto stools to order something at the counter and then complain about it.

All in all, a cozy, sunny spot to read the paper on a Sunday.

A-

David Bouley's new restaurant

David Bouley's got a new restauarant set to open soon, and I've been asked by the PR rep to keep things top secret until April 17, but there was a "friends and family" dinner on Friday night where my friend Kathleen and I were allowed to take photos, though we agreed not to publish any photos of the food yet. Just to continue with the secrecy game, I won't name the restaurant. Feel free to guess, though.

A pretty gorgeous space. This is the bar area. See the little diarama set into the wall?

Below are more pictures of the bar area.

The head mixologist's name is Gen (on the right); he makes a tomato cocktail that is nothing like a Bloody Mary. 

This is shozhu, the spirit in the tomato cocktail. Apart from that, Gen uses melon, and passionfruit seeds mixed with tomato seeds.

To the right, Executive Chef Isao Yamada. Below, the sushi chefs exercise cat-like focus.

But back in the kitchen, things are a little more relaxed.

So was it a great meal? We were presented with a 9 course tasting menu, and overall the food, ambience, and experience were all impressive. This is to be just the second kaiseki restaurant in the city, and if you're not familiar with Japanese kaiseki cusine, you might be interested in checking it out (for more information, check out this article: Demystifying Kaiseki). It's a traditional ceremonial Japanese form of cooking and presentation. Let's just say that when we were seated we were each presented with a blossoming cherry branch. And that my vegetable tempura contained a fried fern. 

The guests seemed to enjoy themselves.

So I would recommend it - though not in name, yet.