HUNGRY GERALD

As reported in an earlier post, SJ and family are in New Mexico for Passover/Easter vacation. Exquisite Maiko, HG’s favorite cook, prepared dinner and it was a miracle of Japanese simplicity and light, healthy eating. Appetizer was a giant steamed artichoke served with a mustard-based vinaigrette. This was followed by a platter of Icelandic cod in a soy and white wine sauce. EM sautés (and lightly steams) the fish to bring out natural succulence. The cod was adorned with crisp garlic chips and little tangles of fried seaweed. HG contemplated an unusual phenomenon. HG was enjoying the ultimate seafood in the high desert of landlocked New Mexico. EM magic. Accompanying the fish were haricots vert and lush mushrooms (a tasty variety of oyster mushrooms). Just a sprinkle of soy sauce enhanced the flavors. Simple, simple food made memorable by EM’s Japanese genius.

The following night, EM took to the kitchen once again for a feast of tempura. Now, HG thinks of himself as a gourmand, a person who relishes good food and wine. And, he believes his choices are guided by judgment and experience. Decidedly not a glutton dedicated to the “grand bouffe.” There is an exception to HG’s self regarding analysis. That’s when HG is confronted by a tempura dinner created by Exquisite Maiko. Mad gluttony takes over. Excess rules. No chopsticks for HG. Knife, fork and spoon are wielded with speed. At times, HG wishes for a small shovel in order to engage the largest amount of EM’s tempura with dispatch. So, here’s what EM prepared last night. Each diner got a bowl of soba in soy broth (the fried items were dipped in this and the noodles slurped happily and noisily). Bowls were continuously replenished. The tempura included shrimp, bay scallops, mushrooms and asparagus. There was also a dish of Japanese eggplant — elegantly cross-hatched with knife cuts — nestled in a sweet and rich sauce, dusted with bonito flakes. A dish of Age Dashi Tofu. Condiments for the meal included wasabi, finely chopped ginger and sliced scallions. Only a poet could describe EM’s tempura adequately. Alas, HG is just a pedestrian proseur. HG can only stress that EM’s tempura is crisp, light and greaseless. Miraculously, EM’s swift frying doesn’t obscure the natural flavors of the ingredients, only enhances them. Two nights and two lovely examples of EM’s Japanese kitchen artistry.

HG is a confirmed Anglophile in terms of prose, poetry and the dramatic arts (has special love for dressy, upper crust TV stuff like“Downton Abbey”). HG is Francophile in culinary tastes (enchanted by tripe, kidneys, liver, snails, frog legs, tete de veau). A few days ago, BSK brought home a nice piece of cod fished off Iceland’s chilly waters. HG spied a French recipe that called for the cod to be placed on quartered potatoes and sliced onions in a roasting pan. Salted, peppered and moistened with some melted butter and olive oil. Cooked for 25 minutes in a 375 degree oven (pan sealed with Reynolds Wrap). Explanation: Moisture from potatoes and onions would steam the cod. Seemed logical to HG. BSK sneered. Recipe would result in underdone potatoes, tasteless onions and mushy cod. “We’ll do it my way.” In a big pan on top of the stove BSK cooked onions and plenty of garlic until lightly caramelized, deglazed the pan with white wine and added thinly sliced potatoes. Gave it a modest hit of smoked Spanish paprika. When potatoes had softened slightly, BSK topped the pan with the cod (perfectly seasoned with salt and pepper), chopped parsley and poured clam broth over everything. Turned up the heat. Covered the pan. In a few minutes the cod was done and gilded with a little melted butter. The result: Fish with pearly white, juicy flesh and a silky mouth feel. Garlicky onions and potatoes with a taste of the sea from the cod and the clam broth. Great eating. HG expressed gratitude. (However, will try that French recipe some day when dining alone. Belief in French kitchen infallibility dies hard.)

HG has never been in Newfoundland but HG has much love for this chilly land. To begin with, one of HG’s best life companions was a very big, black, highly intelligent Newfoundland dog named Bobo. The big boy would often accompany HG to Vietnamese and Chinese restaurants in Denver, creating anxiety on the part of the waitstaff. And while many visitors have regaled HG with tales of Newfoundland’s physical beauty and the rollicking Irish charm of its residents, what really impresses HG is the quality of the sea creatures procured from its shores: Wondrous cod, hake, haddock and halibut are all fished off the Newfoundland coast. But, until recently, HG was unaware of the tiny, succulent fresh water shrimp from Newfoundland. HG discovered them at the By the Bay Fish Mart in St. Peter’s Bay, Prince Edward Island. They have since become a staple. HG mixes them with mayonnaise, chopped onion, celery and herbs for an estimable salad. However, HG likes them best the Venetian way. A bit of finely chopped garlic. Good olive oil. Chopped parsley. With a glass of chilled white wine it is the perfect way to begin a summer meal.

A rainy day on Prince Edward Island (welcomed by farmers and decried by vacationers). So, it was off to the tiny village of Chepstow just beyond more populous Souris, a scenic town with spectacular views of bays and harbors. The object of HG and BSK’s motor jaunt to Chepstow was to examine the fresh seafood (all caught by local fishers) at the Bergayle Fisheries shop. All of the fish glistened with freshness and clumps of just cooked crimson lobster looked tempting. HG and BSK brought home two pounds of cod for Brilliant Lesley R.’s cod and potato stew, a hearty dish with overtones of southern France and the Iberian coast. BLR started with a base of onions and garlic gently sauteed in olive oil from Puglia, Then came very thinly sliced PEI new potatoes, a specialty of the Island. White wine and clam broth were added, plus grindings of black pepper and some smoked Spanish paprika. When the potato-onion-garlic base was just about done, BLR added the chunks of cod, some thinly sliced tomato, and popped it in the oven to finish. BLR follows the counsel of the great chef, Eric Ripert of New York’s Le Bernardin. The enemy of seafood is overcooking. Less is more. BLR finished the dish by giving it a pungent dusting of chopped Kalamata olives, parsley, garlic scapes and scallions. This was followed by green salad and Canadian cheeses. Profesore Massimo R. had, earlier in the day, discovered an aged New Brunswick goat cheese. HG dug into it and received a collective tongue lashing from his table mates. HG had displayed bad cheese manners. He had dug into the center of the cheese instead of correctly cutting a small wedge incorporating both rind and center. HG promised to behave better in the future.

Perfect. Sun. Cloudless sky. A walk around the Assemblee Nationale to Musee Rodin. Then an amble through the beautiful garden dotted with Rodin masterpieces. HG and BSK were blown away by the temporary Henry Moore show. It focuses on his drawings, maquettes and the bits of bones and shells that inspired this extraordinary artist. The show brings you into his studio and lets you participate in the artistic process. The plaster works are breathtaking. The interplay of interior and exterior and concave to convex is riveting. In many ways, the best pieces are an homage to women.

HG and BSk dined at Rech in the 17th. This is a traditional brasserie, founded in 1925, that had gone downhill. It has been reinvigorated by the brilliant Alain Ducasse (he has also revamped Benoit and Aux Lyonnais). Cut to the chase: HG and BSK had the best seafood meal of their lives. It started with a few bits of salmon mousse (a freebie to whet appetites) and continued with brandade. HG loves brandade, that lush combination of salt cod, garlic, sweet cream and potatoes. This was a brandade that broke new ground. Not a puree (the cod retained its integrity). Not a garlic explosion (a restrained amount). The key word was: Balance. The result: Delight. This was followed by raie grenobloise: A thick juicy tranche of skate swimming in a (once more) perfectly balanced sauce of butter, capers, parsley and lemon juice. Accompanied by a silken potato puree (enhanced by generous thin slices of black truffle) and caramelized endive. Wow!! The wine was our favorite Muscadet. Then the famous Rech camembert ( with glasses of Pomerol). Dessert: Vanilla ice cream enclosed by crisp pastry. The grace note: Warm bittersweet chocolate poured by the maitre d’.

Thank you chef Julien Dumas for your artistry. Thank you Maitre d’ Samy Mir-Beghin for yout warm, deft service. You created dining magic.

Pompidou Centre today. Picasso, Giacometti, Arp, Brancusi, Leger, Braque, Matisse, Balthus, Bonnard, Gris, Chagall, Dufy, Dubuffet and all the other French greats and semi-greats (okay, many were born in Spain, Russia, etc.). Also, a new Rothko acquisition. Some thoughts: French art ran out of steam after Picasso and the Americans took over. Pompidou is wonderful. Beautifully lit and displayed and organized. But, compared to MOMA it is provincial. Balthus’s “Alice” remains shockingly pornographic. Laurens and Duchamp-Villon (not displayed very much in USA) give HG great pleasure.

Annoying dinner mishap. Arrived at Cave Beauvau, much touted wine bar, and found out they were not serving dinner. A mixup. Off to Le Vaudeville for briny oysters, Muscadet, a huge slice of cod with truffled potatoes. The best herring in Paris with warm potato salad. Favorite dessert (you’ll never guess): Ile Flottante. So, HG and BSK demolished hunger pangs in style.