Monthly Archives: August 2011

When Almost Veggie and I tooled in, stylishly late of course, for brunch at River Oaks’ brand-new Brasserie 19 this past Sunday, I knew it was what that guy in Casablanca called “the beginning of a beautiful friendship.” Here was everything I love about French food and drink, stripped of everything I hate about French food and drink. Yes, of course, there were escargots! And since I knew the days ahead included both a radio taping with owners Charles Clark and Grant Cooper (they of Ibiza fame) and a full-scale review for Houston magazine, I figured it was high time to get some garlic butter dripping down my chin.

In spite of the location’s former tenant, TonyMandola’s Gulf Coast Kitchen, the ridiculously wonderful raw oyster platter featured not a single oyster from the Gulf Coast. In the spirit of France, however, that was just fine with us. The four varieties of oyster that did show up were all from the much colder waters off the U.S. and Canadian East Coast - which meant that their tastes and textures were more in line with oysters from France, like the famed belons of Brittany.

For whatever reason, I’m not typically a seafood salad lover. But when this one showed up in front of Almost Veggie, I couldn’t resist having a taste or three. She was particularly excited to share the bright red lobster claw meat - which reminded us of the dazzling Lobster Thermidor we had recently at Rainbow Lodge. All the seafood was sprightly and fresh, reminding me not to be such a snob when it comes to seafood salads.

And if there’s one thing I’m never a snob about, it’s a burger and fries. Yes, Brasserie 19′s incredible Steak Frites are offered on the brunch menu too (which we successfully begged them to keep serving us after the scheduled end at 3 p.m.). But your basic “steak frites fix” can also be enjoyed in this, much more American way. The fries are some of the best you’ll taste in your life, spared that horrific Parmesan and/or truffle oil stupidity, and the burger is a masterpiece. In fact, it proved my perfect carnivore appetizer for the New York strip that would take its place several nights later.

Going back to Brasserie 19 for dinner, with a side order of radio taping, meant sharing the experience with my daughter Amanda and her fiance Byron, he just arrived from New Zealand. And that meant picking up one of the ultimate French classics I’d failed to cram in at brunch. While Grant Cooper assured me every French place in France (or even in Belgium, where he spent a good part of his life) makes onion soup a bit differently, the one at Brasserie 19 is everything an American could dream of. There’s rich, flavorful beef broth, lots of caramelized onions, a slab of floating toast and a lava flow of melted cheese.

In honor of Almost Veggie, who’s been known to enjoy halibut whenever nobody gives her excellent Lobster Thermidor, I had the halibut entree - while daughter got the steak frities with an extra order of frites for the table (talk about Supersizing!) and fiance got the pan-roasted duck with Texas figs. Thanks to chef de cuisine Amanda McGraw, the fish was mild and flaky amid a festival of “melted leaks,” jumbo lump crabmeat and chive butter. I’m not sure where the notion of “melting” leeks, as opposed to cheese, came from - but suddenly the silly things are on menus all over town.

For dessert, we sampled a creme brulee, one of those classics that, at any given moment, may or may not seem too much of a cliche. Fact is, Amanda declared it possibly the best creme brulee ever. I had an even more profound blast from my past, harking back to the very first creme brulee I ever tasted, at Arnaud’s in New Orleans. I could almost turn back the clock, what, maybe 25 years, and hear super-suave maitre d’ Marlin Shipley telling me that “creme brulee is flan that’s died and gone to heaven.” And once again, if only for a moment, it was.

Finally, if you’re having dessert at Brasserie 19 - and you must - you have to get the most amazing thing they’ve got going. Billed simply (as any French dessert should be) as Apple Galette, it’s a kind of hot apple pie in a pastry satchel, the apple filling rich and thick and sweet, all underneath warm flaky pastry that gets its own topping of vanilla ice cream and salted caramel. After several glasses of Burgundy, I didn’t feel like having more wine with dessert. Next time, though, I have a date with something promisingly called Trie Exceptionelle. Like Charles Clark and Grant Cooper in the spirit of Texas, I’m thinking this Sauternes will make some very big promises - and then seriously over-deliver.

During this way-too-long, way-too-hot summer here in Texas, there’s nothing quite as refreshing as a cold slice of watermelon - especially if it comes with a martini attached. This, one of several creative-meets-classic cocktails at the brand-new Sorrel Urban Bistro, brings the quality that had people driving all over creation to Ray’s Grill in Fulshear right into the heart of Houston on West Alabama between Shepherd and Kirby.

Though the space inhabited by Sorrel (which owners Ray Salti and chef-partner Soren Pedersen choose to pronounce Sor-ELLE) was long home to a joint called Ziggy’s, they pretty much stripped the building down to its bones and started over. Their idea was to create a sophisticated but very casual interior filled with sunlight and airiness that offered some of the best approaches to farm-to-table cooking anywhere. Based on a tasting and radio taping at Sorrel last night, I’d say that a mere few weeks of operating have gotten them close to that goal.

Chef Soren, a native of Denmark who’s been cooking his way around restaurants and private clubs in America for many years, is very serious about his farm-to-table mantra. He’s especially happy when the best version of something is seasonal, organic AND local, but he isn’t afraid to look elsewhere when that’s where better quality or more selection comes from. The process is helped along by his creating new lunch and dinner menus each day, using only what he really likes the looks of.

Chef Soren’s pride and joy is his daily Innovation Menu (five courses at dinner, three at lunch), which he says offers him the ultimate freedom to express the best stuff coming into his kitchen. We opted to wrestle back control, ordering too many dishes that we were simply curious or excited about trying. These lovely whole shrimp (yes, with heads and tails still attached) are spiked with ancho chile and positioned above their own broth with wilted spinach.

Sometimes, in the middle of so much chef innovation, it just feels right to revisit a classic. You’d be tempted to think of potato-leek soup with creme fraiche as a serious wintertime thing, so rich and warming and tasting of the hearth. But when Chef Soren gets through with it, potato-leek soup is lightier, even livelier than we’ve ever tasted it before. It’s nothing short of a wonder. You should try it next time he’s in the mood, or maybe just ask if he can make it for you.

I know a lot of people these days say they’re weary of tuna tartare, so I’m delighted to report that this isn’t it. The menu describes it as peppercorn-crusted ahi, and happily it doesn’t spare the pepper. The crust is crunchy and a tad hot-tasting, in a good way, slowly letting you taste your way into tender tuna that’s, naturally, served very rare. The dish shows up with a saffron drizzle and something called “eggplant stew.”

If you prefer your fish on the lighter, whiter side, boy does Sorrel have a snapper for you. Under this crinkled, lightly charred skin awaits some of the moistest and most delicious snapper you’ve ever tried. The dish comes with two great pieces of summertime Gulf Coast produce: tomato turned into a slaw and okra that’s “quick-fried,” meaning without the ball o’batter so (rightly) popular across the Deep South.

Chef Soren serves red meat several ways on any evening’s menu, all of them worthy as best we can tell. On this night, for instance, there’s iron-skillet seared beef mignon with parsnip puree (in the role of mashed potatoes) and grain mustard demi glace, plus rack of lamb crusted with black lava salt with grilled sweet potato and a pinot noir reduction. We opted for this grilled veal mignon with portobello rosotto and a demi of dried cherries.

Responding to our table’s assembled groans that we were much too full for any dessert, the pastry chef brought us a sampler platter with three of them. Spoons were passed around ceremonially and the force-feeding began. Most sweets were light, or at least (like the blueberry bread pudding) cut unnaturally small for Texas, no doubt at our urging. We particularly enjoyed this dessert, built around a simple grilled peach. It is peach season in Texas, after all.

A couple additional visuals seem in order here, before we dismiss the congregation from this service. At Sorrel, part of the “chef-driven” attitude gets a boost from this and at least one other video monitor. Ironically, this one is right by the open kitchen, letting the diners gaze - you guessed it - right into the open kitchen. There’s another monitor upfront where diners wait for their tables, I guess to reassure them all their waiting is not for naught.

And finally, a visual that’s closer to my heart than any silly old open kitchen on TV… In case you weren’t there to see us at Sorrel Urban Bistro last night, and maybe in case you’ve never seen Delicious Mischief being recorded, here’s the table where it happened. That’s me, of course, interviewing chef on left and owner on right. And toward the front, that’s PR goddess Kimberly Park keeping her eye (and her camera) on things, plus our good friend Ashli, known for her food website Almost Veggie Houston. Since my daughter Amanda (now known as The Texavore) snapped this photo, there’s a whole lot I like about it.