By Richard Frisbie

Photos by Richard Frisbie.

When you’re hungry, any kind of food sounds good. When you are planning a dinner for fifty or sixty hungry people, tapas sounds like a brilliant idea, but is it dinner? At the Paradores Hotel in Santiago de Compostella last February, Emilio Gomez proved it was both!

It was the first of ten concept dinners, each encompassing eighteen regions of Spain. Called “La Cocina de Paradores,” this visually stunning event was held in the equally beautiful Parador de “Hotel Dos Reis Catolicos,” originally built as a hospital, or place of shelter, for the pilgrims arriving at the Cathedral of St James just next door. The cross-shaped dining room, its vaulted ceiling and ornate altars evidenced earlier religious use, was a spectacular setting for this over-the-top culinary event. The casual tapas and bar hopping typical of other evenings could not compare to this, The Ultimate Tapas Party.

Photo by Richard Frisbie.

It was designed as a standup meal with 8 to 10 people for each large round table. Plates of  tapas were placed so that diners could rotate around the table stopping at tapas “stations” to eat that region’s best. Each individual tapas was made of ingredients solely from one region, and each was accompanied by the wine (or primary beverage) of that region. Drinks were served on trays, and mobile bars rolled around the room’s perimeter to have refreshment always at hand. But it was the tapas that stole the show, and what a show it was!

Photo by Richard Frisbie.

Imagine having the most artistic chefs creating each unusual tapas design. They had a team of sous chefs to help them replicate the design times 20 – for each table – to total about 500 of each design. The tapas arrived in little bowls, on little plates, on small spoons, with pipettes of various liquids, and arranged upright on skewers of various sizes and colors to create a veritable forest of colorful and unusual shapes. The display was beautiful!

An artistic interpretation of each tapas was created as a sculpture, all from non-perishable material.

They were on display in a great hall on pedestals, each in a Plexiglas box rising above the principle wine and grapes of that region. Behind each were tables lined with hundreds of real tapas ready to plate and deliver to  guests” tables.

The problem with the event was that I was there to cover the culinary aspect as part of the Gastronomy Congress I was attending. After eating, drinking and tasting all day, standing for three hours while the pomp of the very formal evening played out was just too much to ask. Compound that by needing to taste each of 18 tapas with the accompanying alcoholic beverage, which included hard cider, beer, and all manner of wines. A lesser person could not have done it; a smarter one wouldn’t have! I neatly fit between those extremes and consumed them all – I was working – then joined a group of chefs at a jazz club for drinks and dancing afterward. My stomach still hasn’t recovered!

The highlights:

I’ll be politic and say Galicia’s were the best. One because I love their white wines, so the Bocarribeira 09 D.O. Ribeiro local white served in the traditional manner – a small white bowl – was a refreshing treat; a simple uncomplicated not too sweet delight. The fancy take on St James cake as a dessert tapas was a surprise. St James cake is sugar, butter, almond flour (and ground almond, no wheat) combined into a melt-in-your-mouth simple but luscious cake. Here it was topped with little pancakes and no small amount of whimsy to excel. Besides, Galicia, a place I love to visit, was my host.

Photo by Richard Frisbie.

After that, the Canary Island’s offering of the second-best potatoes of Spain (after Galicia, of course) speared with pipettes of their green (mild) and red (hot) mojo sauce reminded me of an incredible visit there as only the aromas and tastes of food can trigger the big memories of our lives. The rest (both tapas and wine) could all be grouped as in the good range, but no others stand out as winners.

My final thought? Next time I’ll photograph the event and skip the fancy food. I know, I can say that now, but when beautiful food is placed before me, it is rare that I can refuse it.

Could you?

For More Information:

www.tourspain.es/en/HOME/ListadoMenu.htm?Language=en
Tourist Office of Spain

www.parador.es/
Parador de “Hostal Dos Reis Católicos”

www.santiagoturismo.com/
Turismo de Santiago de Compostela

Richard Frisbie is a food, wine, and travel writer; a bookseller and publisher of New York centric books; and a professional baker who resides in New York’s Hudson Valley. Online, his articles appear here, on Gather.com, GoNomad.com, travellady.com and the many websites of EDGE Publications. He also writes for regional New York magazines such as Life in the Finger Lakes, and Kaatskill Life. Richard can be reached at Richard@globalfoodie.com

By Keith Kellett

Appetizer at dinner. Photo by Keith Kellett.

When we took our first cruise, it was with another line, and we were nearly put off for ever. Although the ship was British-owned, it flew the Greek flag. Not only did we miss, for instance, the fabled sunset on Santorini, we were hull-down on the horizon, tucking into roast beef and Yorkshire pudding.

I ask you! We can get that at home any day of the week; I can even prepare it myself, if need be.

Then, in 2006, we visited Santorini again, cruising this time with the Italian cruise line Costa Crociere, or Costa Cruises, to give them its English title, on the Costa Atlantica. This was much more like it! Free coffee whenever we wanted it, and pizza … real, crusty, thin-based pizza at most times, especially welcome if you’d been on a shore excursion, and missed lunch.

Dining Room on Costa Serena. Photo by Keith Kellett.

This year, we sailed on the Costa Serena, bigger than Atlantica, and themed around Greek mythology; Atlantica is themed around Fellini films.

Generally, whether we had Italian food for dinner, or some other cuisine, the menu was arranged Italian-style. First, the antipasto, or appetiser, then the pasta dish then the main course. Cheese was generally served before the dessert; we presumed, to clear the palate before the sweet.

It’s not only at dinner that you get such service. Although a sit-down breakfast or lunch is obtainable at all the restaurants, most use the buffet, which is open longer. And, here, the choice is much wider. You can indulge in your own national preferences if you like … although one of the very few issues I have with Costa is that they don’t seem to be able to cook bacon the way I like it. But, for their ice cream, I can forgive them even that. And, there’s plenty of other things to have for breakfast.

Executive Chef Massimo Molinaro. Photo by Keith Kellett.

In the kitchen, Executive Chef Massimo Molinaro presides over a staff of 115 chefs, cooks, and porters, catering for up to 3,780 passengers in the five restaurants on board, in addition to the 1000 crew, who also need feeding. It’s almost non-stop , starting at breakfast at 7.00 a.m. and ending at 2 a.m.

There’s usually a complicated ‘vegetable sculpture’ on display in the buffet. And, at the ‘sit-down’ meals, the food is always painstakingly plated to make it look as attractive as possible. It’s never forgotten, though, that the main object is to feed the client not just to impress him.

(The kitchen staff on Costa’s ships are faced with something their fathers didn’t consider. Costa is heavily committed to preserving the marine environment, and strives to make the ships as green’ as possible. They no longer use the procedure known in the Royal Navy as “pumping gash’,” or simply dumping the kitchen waste over the side. Every scrap of waste food must be incinerated, and the ash disposed of ashore.)

By Susan McKee

Cognac has been a tourist town for centuries not for its eponymous distilled spirits, but for its location. It’s on one of the ancient pilgrimage routes to Santiago (St. James) de Compostella in northwest Spain. For centuries, religious travelers have stopped in France to rest or pray at Cognac’s churches on the way to Galicia. The Tours Saint-Jacques (St. James Towers) along France’s Charente River, dates from this time.

Cognac

Lately, though, the town of 20,000 has fallen off the tourism radar. I was there by chance on a weekend getaway, and found this out-of-the-way part of France steeped in history and tradition. For starters, King François was born there two years after Christopher Columbus first set sail in search of a route to Asia.

I was familiar with his name – Anglicized to Francis I, this first Renaissance monarch of France, a man who gave his name to a Reed & Barton sterling silver pattern, one that’s unaccountably popular among my friends. A contemporary of Henry VIII of England, Holy Roman Emperor Charles V and Suleiman the Magnificent, he was the architect of many cultural advances for his country.

He was born in the Château de Cognac in 1494, and its current owners are delighted to show you the exact room. The château is now the home of Otard, one of the premiere brands of eau de vie (or, brandy) produced in Cognac.

Spirits, however, weren’t the first produit de gastronomie created in the region of Poitou-Charentes. Back in 1215, Jean Sans Terre – better known to the rest of us as John Lackland (who became the English King John of Magna Carta fame) – issued the town a charter for the salt trade. The marshy Atlantic coast of Charente is the perfect place to produce evaporated sea salt, which was a valuable commodity in a time when salt was the only food preservation.

Salt trade was the start of the town’s prosperity. The Old Town, the medieval quarter called Vieux Cognac, still contains many unusual old buildings along its narrow, cobbled streets. The 17^th century’s brandy production began when it was discovered that distilled alcohol survived transit by ship to northern Europe — and so much better than wine.

My tour guide pointed out gargoyles and other figures on the richly decorated wooden façades. There were lots of salamanders. This amphibian, more in its mythic incarnation as a relative of the dragon than its lowly existence as a lizard, was Francis I’s symbol. In an era when towns and castles regularly burned to the ground, the salamander was said to thrive amidst the flames.

Vieux Cognac runs from the river up to the Saint-Léger church, founded in the 11^th century. It’s noted for an unusual 18^th century portal decorated with the signs of the zodiac.

Cognac’s main square is, of course, named for Francis I, and a statue of the king on horseback towering over his enemies is found at the center, right on the spot where a bastion once stood as part of the town’s defenses during the Hundred Years’ War.

According to French law, only brandy made in certain areas around the town of Cognac during particular times of the year can be called “cognac.” (There are some good eaux de vie produced outside this Appellation d’Origine Contrôlée, but they aren’t cognac.) Not surprisingly, the economy revolves around this particular form of brandy.

Almost everyone I spoke to had some connection to the dominant industry – whether it was in the distillation process itself, or producing the aging  barrels, bottles and corks, printing  labels, or distribution and shipping. I was told that 95 percent of the production was exported.

The very air of cognac seemed redolent with eau de vie due to the ubiquitous black mold. If you look around town, you’ll sniff out buildings old and new, all shaded with the distinctive fungus. Called the “angel’s share,” this is the evidence of cognac evaporating from its oak barrels to the sky and the angels.

I took the Otard cognac tour because I wanted to see inside the historic chateau (owned by the Otards since the end of the 18^th century), but there are lots of others. Tours of Hennessy, Camus, Martell also are in Cognac, with Louis Royer and Courvoisier just down the River Charente in Jarnac.

I stayed in the absolutely fabulous Logis du Fresne in the village of Juillac le Coq. Inside, the rustic guestrooms have every luxury, and outside is the restful quiet of the countryside. Great restaurants were everywhere in the region. A few of my favorites are Le Coq d’Or in Cognac (try the Moules marinières au Pineau des Charentes), Château de l’Yeuse in Chateaubernard and La Ribaudière in Bourg-Charente.

I met some friends in Cognac who had a special treat lined up for us: a visit to the Grey Goose factory. Although the complex is not yet open for public tours, it is part of the company’s future plan.

Who knew that this premium vodka was made in Cognac – but, of course, it makes sense. Grey Goose is distilled from French wheat, and Cognac has a long history of making spirits. After a sneak peek of the inner sanctum (where cameras and notebooks were forbidden) we ended up in the elegant tasting room for some sipping and demonstrations.

François Thibaut, the maître de chai for Grey Goose, explained the genesis of the brand. The intention was to produce a premium vodka, so the owners searched for the perfect combination of ingredients and tradition. The answers turned out to be soft wheat grown in the “breadbasket of France,” which is just south of Paris, with natural spring water filtered through limestone as it flows underground from the Massif Central and the tradition of distillation present in Cognac.

Dimitri Cezinska, Grey Goose’s Global Brand Ambassador, showed us how to make the perfect martini – stirred, not shaken, James Bond’s preference not withstanding. “Shaking just adds ice shards that dilute the drink,” he explained. Martinis are, of course, made with unflavored vodka, but flavored varieties are popular in other mixed drinks.

Grey Goose!

Details:

Cognac Otard, Château de Cognac, 127, Boulevard Denfert Rochereau, BP 3
16100 Cognac; +33 (0)5 45 36 88 86; http://www.otard.com.

Official site of the city of Cognac (in English): http://www.ville-cognac.fr/welcome.php3

Logis du Fresne, 16130 Juillac le Coq; + 33 (0) 545 322 874; http://www.logisdufresne.com

Château de l’Yeuse, 65 rue de Bellevue, Chateaubernard; +33 (0)5 45 36 82 60; http://www.yeuse.fr/uk/accueil_uk.html

La Ribaudière, Place du Port, Bourg-Charente; +33 (0)5 45 81 30 54; http://www.laribaudiere.com/

Grey Goose: http://www.greygoosevodka.com/

Susan can be reached at: Susan@SusanMcKee.com.

Take six to a dozen different people, from all kinds of backgrounds and varied cooking abilities. Add a French master chef, a skilled sous-chef, one who is also a wine expert, and her husband, who is another wine expert. Blend together in a modernised 200-year-old farmhouse in France’s Languedoc district, serve with walking, cycling, tennis and swimming on the side, and you have the French House Party.

St. Raymond's Gastro Acadamy where we learn to cook.

The French House Party offers a wide range of courses, ranging from video and movie making, through drama and artwork to creative writing. But, their signature dish is probably the Gastro Academy.

There are three cookery courses to choose from; the 7-day Cook au Vin;, the 6-day Gourmet Explorer; and the 3-day Cuisine in Brief, which I attended. But, please be advised, they aren’t intended to turn you into a gourmet cook overnight. It’s a pity experience is the only appropriate word I can think of.

Chef Robert Abraham ready to teach us some of what he knows.

Chopping and creating our masterpieces.

But, before I get carried away by the relaxing Art Deco atmosphere of the dining-room, sitting room and bedrooms, I’d better talk about the kitchen which, of course, would be the main focus of our business. After lunch on the first day, we were briefly introduced to it, to help to make amuses-bouche, which sounds a lot nicer than nibbles,  to go with our pre-dinner apéritif.

The kitchen is long, with a central table running down the middle, with provisions  for taller (or shorter) people to take part without too much discomfort. It was only recently refurbished, and gasps of admiration and envy greeted it. And, I have an idea that some of those features might shortly be adopted in the kitchens of the participants.

Before dinner, the chef de cuisine, Robert Abraham, introduced himself. He would, he said, be overseeing our cooking on the morrow, but first, we needed ingredients. In the morning, we would accompany him to the market in Revel to buy them.

The chef manages to find the market's best.

Up to a year ago, I thought that the idea of the chef going to the market and personally selecting ingredients was a fiction put about by the makers of TV food programmes. But, in the last twelve months, I’ve met two chefs who did just that, so I’m happy to stand corrected.

Unfortunately, my French isn’t good enough to understand the discussion — maybe even haggling — that went on between Chef Robert and the stallholders, but we came away with basketfuls of provisions that could have been entered in a competition in any County Show at home in the UK.

So, with all the people and ingredients assembled, we were ready to begin cooking. We had three sessions, prepared three meals and, for the sake of brevity, I’ll just talk about the main courses. Under the eye of Chef Robert, we all took part; some to a greater extent than others. I thought back to basic training days, when I’d sit down to a meal, and think, with pride, “I peeled those potatoes!”

For lunch on the first day, we had duck breasts with apples reinette. The apples were baked with lemon juice, honey, butter, pepper and cinnamon; the duck cooked in Noilly Prat and served in slices. It was covered with a sauce made from apple juice and the juiced the duck was cooked in.

Our plated duck and apple slices with Noilly Prat and sauce.

Dinner was St. Jacques scallops served with orange butter sauce and parsnips. I used to think I didn’t like parsnips, but I changed my mind when I tasted these. The main learning point, though, was getting the edible bit out of the scallop. Weretained the shells, to serve a seafood starter for the the following lunch.

The main course on that occasion was monkfish rouelle, served with new potatoes and a tartine of a slice of fried aubergine (that’s eggplant, to my transatlantic readers) topped with a sauce of mussels and shallots.

We also helped to make starters and sweets too numerous to mention here, except that everyone enthused about the crême brulée and the madeleines.

No French meal would be complete without the wine, and here, wine expert Carl Hargreaves came to the fore. He selected wines he thought would go best with each course and he and his wife, sous-chef Debbie, held a wine-tasting just prior to our departure.

My favourite was the Muscat served before the first dinner. It’s said that Dom Perignon visited the area, and refined the recipe for Muscat into champagne.

We all enjoy a little wine talk -- and the wine.

And, a misconception about French cooking was also corrected. I’d missed it, but it wasn’t till the end, on the way back to the airport, that director Moira Martingale pointed out that, at no point in the weekend did Robert use garlic.

In 2008, the French House Party was named ‘Top Learning Retreat’ in the National Geographic book “100 Best Worldwide Vacations to Enrich Your Life.” Cooking is by no means all that goes on there. Find out much more at

www.frenchhouseparty.co.uk

By Vivienne Mackie

Korea has a rich culinary tradition — one of Asia’s finest — and sampling the many delights is one of the pleasures of visiting the country.

A typical Korean meal is based around boiled rice, a variety of soups, and as many side dishes (called banchan) as the cook can muster that day. In fact, banchan are the hallmark of Korean cuisine and all the Koreans I know pride themselves on the banchan‘s uniqueness and variety. Banchan are usually spicy and accompany virtually every meal, three times a day, so Korean housewives have often commented and complained that they need to spend a lot of time preparing these dishes. At least one kimchi will be included, but there are many other possibilities: tofu, bean sprouts, small anchovies in different sauces, wild green vegetables, spinach, acorn jelly, different seaweeds, sliced garlic cloves.

Of them all, kimchi is the favored side dish and fequently is referred to as the national dish. Koreans serve kimchi at almost every meal, and few Koreans can last more than a few days before cravings get the better of them.

Banchan or Korean side dishes.

The most common kimchi is baechu kimchi, made from Napa (or Chinese) cabbage mixed with hot red peppers, ginger, garlic, spices and lots of salt. It’s left to pickle in these spices for months. The mixture is believed to be rich in vitamins C, E, and K. However, it is also commonly made from radishes or cucumbers, and many other vegetables are used, such as pumpkin, eggplant and even broccoli.

Some varieties are aged only for hours or days, others for months, even years. Some are fiery hot, many are pungent, others more bland and are called white kimchi — but even these are not red pepper-free. Many areas of the country and most families have their own Kimchi recipe and these may be jealously guarded, as a housewife’s cooking prowess is frequently judged on her kimchi. However, due to time and space constraints, many Koreans nowadays buy their kimchi at stores; my Korean friends do regret this and always wish they could make more of their own.

What is the Origin of this National Dish?

Traditionally, kimchi was made to preserve vegetables and to ensure proper nutrition during the winter months, when fresh produce was unavailable. Even today, late-November to early-December is still the season for gimjang, or making-your-own-kimchi, and many family members and friends get together for a kimchi-making party.

Jongsoo showing kimchi pots.

Making kimchi dates back to at least the 13^th century. Red chili pepper was only added in the 17^th century, when it was introduced to Korea from Europe via Japan, most likely by the Portuguese. Red pepper brought a major change to kimchi and the Korean diet in general, as the Koreans took to the new spice with great gusto.

Traditionally kimchi was buried and stored in large earthenware crocks in the backyard, and kimchi is still made the old-fashioned way in some parts of the Koreas. The producers bury the vegetable mixes in these covered pots and let the vegetables ferment underground over the winter. But for many families today there is no yard, so they invest in a special kimchi fridge, in order to regulate the storage temperature, and prevent kimchi odor from permeating everything else.

There are at least 160 kimchi varieties, differentiated by region and ingredients, most of them quite spicy. It’s not just the basic side dish of the Korean meal.  Kimchi is used in other popular dishes, such as kimchi stew, kimchi pancakes, kimchi fried rice, and kimchi ramyeon (ramen noodles).

The city of Gwangju, in far South West Korea, hosts a Gimchi Festival one weekend in late September or early October. Here you can taste every kimchi imaginable, and some that you might never imagine, such as kimchi pizza.

During the 1988 Summer Olympic Games, thousands of foreigners were introduced to kimchi for the first time. Despite a reputation for being spicy, some people develop a taste for it, and many foreigners also find themselves missing it after returning to their home country. Today kimchi can be found in many U.S. food stores, partly because Koreans in the country miss their national dish and partly because Korean cuisine has influenced U.S. eating habits. Kimchi is also gaining popularity worldwide for its nutritional value and disease prevention effects.

It’s interesting that North and South Koreans still share a love of this dish. For decades, they have been political rivals: North Korea is communist and poor while South Korea is non-communist and a world economic power. Despite their differences, both sides still share a taste for kimchi.

For years, North Korea has relied on outside aid to ease food shortages. Many factories have shut down because they lack parts or electricity, yet the kimchi industry still seems to be flourishing.

I have to admit that I’m not especially fond of kimchi and yet, while in South Korea in August, it was great fun learning about the dish and going on a “kimchi quest.” The adventure began with 10 days in the capital, Seoul, where my husband and I ventured out for solo meals as well as dining with Korean hosts. After that we were extremely lucky, as a Korean family included us in a road trip to the Andong and Gyeonju areas in South East Korea. Both parents were determined that we should sample as many Korean foods as possible, so each day was a true gourmet adventure. I believe we tasted the best that Korea has to offer. Because we were mobile in their van, we could explore places very much off the beaten path and could meet many of the local people in small villages and actually see where they were making kimchi, and growing and drying red peppers, sesame seeds and radishes. Our hosts, like most Koreans, are very proud of their cooking traditions and were eager for us to learn about kimchi, so we ended up in many backyards, and saw an amazing number and variety of the large earthenware storage pots. One of the sons liked spicy foods and kimchi, while one did not, so we could taste various foods of all levels of fieryness.

Our final analysis: one certainly needs to acquire a liking for kimchi as it’s so different from most other tastes: salty, sour, fermented, spicy. But, if you find you really cannot like it, don’t worry, because Korean cuisine has so much else to offer.

Vivienne sitting between two new friends.

Vivienne Mackie
vivienne.mackie@gmail.com
Blogs: http://viviennemackie.wordpress.com ;  Web Site: www.web.mac.com/vmackie/iweb/VivienneMackieProfile ;
Writing on Helium: www.helium.com/users/422547

By Richard Frisbie

Las Ventanas al Paraíso is an exclusive hotel on the Cabos “corridor,” part way between the luxury resort town of Cabo San Lucas to the south, and the quieter colonial city of San Jose del Cabo to the north. It is simply stunning in its landscaping and architectural beauty. With a little over 100 rooms and suites, Las Ventanas al Paraíso (which translates as Windows to Paradise) successfully combines a small luxury boutique feel with a fabulous spa experience. It is also a favorite of foodies, and offers cooking classes with Chef Fabrice Puisset at a station on the edge of his walled herb garden. Fresh heirloom tomato and beet salad, red snapper baked in a hoja santa leaf, and a delicious selection of desserts were all on the menu the evening I attended. Talk about clean, fresh food. The chef darted into the herb garden whenever he needed fresh ingredients. What a night!

The setting of the class itself was unusual. Inside a walled garden, the class quickly revealed itself as an herb garden with a three-sided counter , all inside a pergola. We classmates arranged ourselves on stools around the “bar” while the “bartender” – who was actually the chef – took his station in front of us. Slanted mirrors hung above him so we could see what he was doing. Two classical guitarists played behind us, and staff hovered to refill our champagne* glasses as necessary (often!). He also played sous chef when needed (rarely!) The setting was perfect.
First Chef Fabrice created a guacamole, taking care to avoid making it into a paste. It had chunky, whole-pieces-of-avocado-bursting-with-flavor, combined with other ingredients to create the freshest in-your face- guacamole I’ve ever tasted. We were served that with a fresh tomato salsa and saltless tortilla chips as “blotters” while we watched the chef at work. With the amount of champagne we were drinking, it was good to have the “blotters!”

Chef Fabrice was an unusual instructor in that he measured nothing , only eyeing ingredients he used. As he worked he explained the concept and the process involved to create each dish – but giving no amounts! That’s how he made the vinaigrette for our salad. He started with a big bowl, pouring in a “goodly” amount of local agava flower honey , made from the tequila cactus, and even more champagne vinegar, to which he added lime juice and olive oil. He poached some orange zest to remove the bitterness and then added the zest, some reduced orange juice, and a few orange chunks to the bowl. A quick whisk, a dash of salt and pepper, and it was done. Without exact amounts, the experienced cook can still easily recreate the recipe using a 3/1 oil to vinegar ratio, adding the other ingredients to taste. The fresh, citrusy flavors complimented the complex tastes of the heirloom tomatoes and beets beautifully.
This next dish seemed fussy to me. I mean, sautéing and then baking a tiny piece of red snapper seemed a bit of overkill. I can’t believe the fillet wouldn’t cook just baking in the oven for 15 minutes or so, but then it wouldn’t have that buttery edge. Anyway, it was fun to watch him put it all together. The red snapper was cooked in butter and olive oil, then it was set on a leaf of the hoja santa plant which is commonly used in Mexican cuisine for tamales, and fish or meat wraps. It imparts a hard-to-put-your-finger-on, almost sassafras, almost eucalyptus taste to the meal. Tiny fresh vegetables (carrots, zucchini, leeks, fennel) were arranged around the fish with fresh basil, then the hoja santa leaf folded over to make a little package. That is set on a sheet of newspaper, wrapped again, and popped into the oven to bake. While it baked Chef Fabrice created a simple lime infused aioli to drizzle on top of the finished dish. Piquant, fragrant, crunchy, elusive in the root of its flavor, the snapper was complex and tasty. I guess, with red snapper readily available and commonly served, involved recipes such as this increase the variety of tastes one can get out of mild white fish.

The desserts tray was crowded with individual little fresh coconut milk custards topped with a variety of fresh fruits and sauces. Tiny multi-layered chocolate cakes, and other sweet concoctions in quantities far exceeding the number of participants were also added. There was even a plate of churros with sweet dips! The selection and combination kept us busy mining the depths of flavors. It was an extravagance of sweetness; a fitting finale to an over-the-top cooking demonstration. Chef Fabrice is an adept and able teacher, engaging in his presentation and execution. The class was one of the best I’ve had,and it certainly was in the nicest setting.
The chef and I definitely connected during the evening. He said he was impressed because I was the only one who took notes throughout the whole three hour meal. (I was impressed because I could still write after three hours of affirmative answers to the constant question, “Would you like more champagne, sir?”) He really is a sweetheart of a guy. I left with his recipes and the Ventanas’ signature red glass heart. It’s hanging in my window at home. Each day when the morning sun fills the heart with light I think I’m back at the table in Las Ventanas al Paraíso again.

* In the interest of clarity, the “champagne” was actually a 2000 Gloria Ferrer Royal Cuvée Brut, a Sonoma California sparkling wine. With 65% Pinot Noir and 35% Chardonnay grapes, it fits within the range of comfort for my palate. Not too much Chardonnay, with the dark grapes (I really prefer the Pinot Meunier grape, but Pinot Noir is very similar) giving it the body and staying power for an evening of imbibing. At $25, this is a very good everyday sparkling wine.

The “Freshest” Guacamole
4 large avocados
1 medium red onion
1 medium tomato
1 bunch cilantro
2 chili serrano
1 oz lime juice
1 tbsp olive oil
Salt and pepper to taste

Cut each avocado in half and remove the seed. Holding one half cupped in your palm, use a rounded knife to crisscross the flesh of the fruit, not breaking the skin, to create ½ inch pieces.With a spoon, scoop it into a large bowl. Repeat for all halves. Finely chop the next four ingredients and stir in, adding the remaining ingredients as you do. The idea is that the avocado will mash a bit as you mix, but it will still have a texture when served.

For More information:
www.visitloscabos.travel
Tourism Los Cabos

Richard Frisbie can be reached at Richard@globalfoodie.com. He also does business at Hope Farm Press & Bookshop, 15 Jane Street Saugerties NY 12477 where, since 1959, he has specialized in New York State books. Questions? Call him at: 845-246-3522
History & Genealogy (NYGenWeb) www.hopefarm.com/geneatop.htm
Shopping-cart www.hopefarmbooks.com
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Tea Time in Assam

By Susan McKee

Slurp, slosh, spit, repeat. I watched Abir Goyal sample his way through a hundred different lots of tea in the broker’s office in Guwahati, India. This was his second run through. The first was steeped with boiling water. This go-round added milk to the brewed tea, just as it would be drunk by the majority of tea drinkers in India.

He was tasting “dust” – the lowest quality of broken tea leaves that looks like powder. Goyal said that it’s very popular in the south of India because it brews many more cups per kilo than the pricier leaf tea. He said it’s also used in tea bags.

Just like wine tasters, Goyal doesn’t actually swallow what he’s tasting; he just swirls it in his mouth for a bit. Tasting notes are dictated to the clerk following him down the line of teas identified only by number. “Thin,” he’d say. Or “thick” or “smooth,” or other succinct adjectives.

The vocabulary, too, reminded me of wine tasting. Goyal assessed the weight and quality of the tea on his tongue, just like an experienced sommelier, checking for burnt, harsh or coarse overtones. “Malty” is sought after in Assamese teas, “metallic” is not. “Full-bodied” is the top designation, the target combination of strength and colour.

He also looked at the unbrewed tea next to the prepared cup, checking to see if it was well-picked and clean.

Goyal, who is a senior executive with Carritt Moran & Company, is charged with providing guidance for his company’s purchasing agents. Based on his tasting notes, they head to the tea auction in Guwahati and bid for the lots. Carritt Moran, founded in 1877, is the second-largest tea auctioneer firm in the world, handling about one-fourth of the teas sold through the Indian auction system.
I had spent the morning at the Gauhati Tea Auction Centre, watching both the live and the subsequent electronic auction. Assam – the province of which Guwahati (also called Gauhati) is the capital – grows most of the tea exported by India. Some 20 percent of Indian tea passes through this auction house. Watching the auction itself was mesmerising. I had no idea what made one lot of tea worth more than another, but men such as Goyal certainly did.

I was staying with friends, originally from Darjeeling, who’d moved to Assam several years ago. Like many in Guwahati, they invested in a tea plantation, which is called a tea garden here. But they hadn’t visited their property in months; the region had become too dangerous. The entire north-east section of India had been off-limits to foreigners for decades because of an ongoing guerrilla uprising against the central government. Although things had quieted down enough to lift the tourism prohibition, out in the distant reaches of the province things were still a little bit dicey.

My friends said they’d ransomed their manager twice now, that keeping good staff was a problem when kidnapping was a routine occurrence.

I didn’t see any trouble in the tea plantation I visited, however. The Brahmaputra River is bordered by more than a half a million acres of lush green tea gardens growing in the rich alluvial soil. The total production of tea in Assam approaches one million pounds per year.

The tea gardens themselves are beautiful. The emerald green of the waist-high camellia sinensis bushes seems to glow from within. The best tea is picked by hand, and whole villages of migrant workers are imported to do the specialised work. First comes withering, when the freshly picked green leaves are spread out to dry on enormous ventilated trays. The leaves are then processed and graded, with whole leaves at the top of the scale, and the powdery dust at the bottom.

Tea, while a darn good excuse, isn’t the only reason to journey to Assam. There are a couple of significant Hindu pilgrimage sites here and one of the top game preserves in the world.

The Kamakhya Devi temple, known for its animal sacrifices, occupies a prominent hilltop in the middle of town. The Umananda Temple, dedicated to Shiva, is the centrepiece of Peacock Island. Hindu priests and golden langur long-tailed monkeys are the only permanent residents of this small bluff in the Brahmaputra River. Ten rupees (US$.25) buys you a round-trip ferry ride from Kachari Ghat, about 20 minutes each way.

The Assam State Museum, located near the Standard Chartered Bank on the GNB Road, provides a good introduction to the history, culture and art of the region. Just looking around, one can see Burmese, Chinese and Indian influences on the people and the culture.

Although there are many stores selling the distinctive champagne-coloured Assamese silk, if you travel to Sualkuchi (about 32km from Guwahati on the north bank of the Brahmaputra River) you can see the weavers in action. Don’t miss a trip to Kaziranga National Park (www.kaziranganationalpark.com). India’s first wildlife sanctuary, it was established a century ago by the British viceroy to preserve the then-dwindling population of the one-horned Indian rhinoceros. There are now some 1,500 of the majestic beasts roaming free in the park, protected by 400 staff members and 120 anti-poaching camps.

Tigers, sometimes seen on excursions into the park, are considered an especially auspicious omen on one’s visit. It’s an astonishing experience for visitors who can climb aboard elephants for an early morning ride out into the bush in search of wildlife. That’s when I saw my “lucky tigers,” but also lots of swamp deer, hog deer, storks, herons, a group of wild buffalo and, of course, rhinos.

Kaziranga is about 217 dusty, bumpy kilometres by road from Guwahati, so arranging a package tour is the best way to get there.

There are no name-brand hotels in Assam, even in the capital, so don’t expect Western hotel standards. The rooms will be clean, if a bit threadbare, and the occasional insect should not be cause for alarm. There will be two sets of prices – one in rupees for Indian nationals and another in US dollars for foreign nationals.

The best hotel in the Assamese capital is the Dynasty (SS Road, Lakhtokia, Guwahati, tel 91 3612 5104 9699, www.hoteldynastyindia.com). In the heart of the Fancy Bazaar shopping district, it’s close to restaurants and many businesses. The doorman wears an impressive uniform, the lobby floors are marble and the atmosphere is definitely Indian. To get an actual bathtub in your bathroom, you need to request a junior suite. The 76 rooms have minibars, and there’s a fitness centre.

For a spectacular view, ask for a room overlooking the river at the 49-room Brahmaputra Ashok Hotel (tel 91 361 602 281, (www.theashokgroup.com/brahmaputra_hotels.htm) – as long as there’s no noisy party scheduled on the ground-floor patio. It’s on Mahatma Gandhi (“MG”) Road, opposite the High Court in Guwahati.

Contact Susan at Susan@globalfoodie.com. This prolific writer can also be found at:

Roadtrips.Foodie@gmail.com
http://Twitter.com/RoadtripsFoodie
http://RoadTripsforFoodies.com

By Keith Kellett

Outside the newly renovated Hare and Hounds

When I drove through Bowland Bridge, in Cumbria last year, I was saddened to see one of my favourite pubs, Hare and Hounds, abandoned forlorn and boarded up. I wasn’t really surprised, though. Pleasant as it was, Bowland Bridge is a small community of half a dozen houses and is miles from anywhere. It was accessed by only a minor road, served by one bus a week. The only other public facility there is a small Post Office and a general store.

In the past, the Hare and Hounds had a prosperous farming clientele, In those days, any hostelry within walking distance was recognised as one’s “local” and those farmers were prepared to walk a fair distance for a drink and a bit of a craic* with their friends.

However, much has changed in the pub habits of the average Briton. Much of the blame has been laid on television, greater mobility, stricter drink-drive laws and the British Government’s habit to tax anything pleasurable to a fare-thee-well. People rarely just go for a drink these days. To survive, a pub needs to offer something else; a large-screen television, live entertainment and great food. Most places serve food. To stay ahead of the game, pubs must really serve better fare than the opposition. Nuking a pre-cooked, frozen meal in the microwave just isn’t on any more. “Locally Sourced” is a phrase we’re hearing more and more in the realms of pub grub.

Hare and Hounds Cumbria Sausage

You can imagine my delight when I heard from a friend that the Hare and Hounds was back in business–with that locally accessed produce! It was smaller than it used to be, because some of the building was sold to make private residences. But, fresh whitewash, a trim garden and an inviting patio sort of smiled a welcome.

Inside there is an old-world look without looking contrived. The menu won me over with one proviso; please be patient, because each meal was cooked to order, not in bulk. Most of us had ham and eggs, but, as I always do in these parts, ordered Cumberland pork sausage.Yes, you can get Cumberland sausage elsewhere in the UK, but it does taste better in its area of origin. OK, Bowland Bridge was in Westmorland (it’s all Cumbria now, anyway) but we still like our Cumberland sausage. There are those who say true Cumberland sausage comes in a continuous spiral, rather than the more usual links. I don’t really think it matters, as long as the right blend of meat and spices are used; the taste is just the same.

Inside Hare and Hound.

The sausages came on a bed of mashed potato; some say this is the only way to serve them. But, with the potatoes came a delicious onion gravy that really complemented the potatoes and the sausages. And, I made a discovery. As the “designated driver,” I chose apple juice instead of ale. It goes really well with these sausages. In fact, I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before — after all, we often eat apple sauce with pork.

Writing about hidden, secret places  such as this of often means it doesn’t stay secret for long. But, better to mention the reopened pub than have it remain  secret … and out of business.

Hare and Hounds
Bowland Bridge
Grange-Over-Sands, Cumbria, LA11 6NN
Telephone: 08721 077 077

*craic is originally a Gaelic term and means a bit of music and fun with great conversation.
Keith Kellett is globalfoodie’s UK correspondent. His email is: Keith@globalfoodie.com

By Susan McKee

A few years ago, an idea popped into my mind: Methinks I will not die quite happy without having seen something of that Rome of which I have read so much. Of course, that’s not an original thought. In fact, I stole it from the Scottish novelist and poet, Sir Walter Scott.

Roman roads, by Moonjazz (Flickr)

Making a trip to Italy to see Rome is a journey that people who consider themselves educated must do. The art and sculpture, the architectural styles, the dominant religious tradition, the very history of Western Civilization can be traced back to that site as though it were the navel of the universe. Every one soon or late comes round to Rome (Robert Browning, the English poet, said that).  Not that I hadn’t already traveled to Rome – in my mind. All through my decades in school, I’d read about it, saw photographs of it, watched movies about it.

Countless travelers, more literary than I, had been there before to record their experiences. What is there in Rome for me to see that others have not seen before me? What is there for me to touch that others have not touched? What is there for me to feel, to learn, to hear, to know, that shall thrill me before it pass to others? (Mark Twain this time).

Still, as a travel writer, I realized there’s nothing like being there. Knowledge of Rome must be physical, sweated into the system, worked into the brain through the thinning shoe-leather. When it comes to knowing, the senses are more honest than the intelligence. Nothing is more real than the first wall you lean up against sobbing with exhaustion. (so said British author Elizabeth Bowen).

I was ready to do my own sobbing. I had to see Rome for myself.

Even from America, all roads lead to Rome, even when there’s an ocean to traverse.

A nonstop flight … and, there I am in Rome! Whence this excess of joy? What has befallen me? A thousand busy thoughts rush on my mind, a thousand images; and I spring up as girt to run a race! (Samuel Rogers). So much to see and so little time!

I grabbed a couple of guidebooks and threw myself into sightseeing in this eternal city, bound and determined to savor it all.

When in Rome, do as the Romans do – that’s the advice that St. Ambrose gave to St. Augustine back in the 4th century. Who was I to do any differently? I stayed in a hotel owned by Italians, and never, ever ate in a restaurant that welcomed bus tours or posted a big sign that offered an English-language menu.

I threw three coins in the Trevi Fountain and had my picture taken with a “gladiator” outside the Coliseum. I marveled at the Pantheon’s oculus and contemplated the view from the Capitoline Hill. The city was resplendent. Rome was a poem pressed into service as a city (Anatole Broyard).

From the Etruscans to the Black Shirts, from the dank Christian catacombs to the vaulted dome of St. Peter’s Basilica, I raced to see Rome, the city of visible history, where the past of a whole hemisphere seems moving in funeral procession with strange ancestral images and trophies gathered from afar (George Eliot).

Alas! Rome wasn’t built in a day (Jean de la Fontaine), and there was far too much to see and do to pack it into one visit. I’ll have to go back and do more exploring.

The old world stands serenely behind the new, as one mountain yonder towers behind another, more dim and distant. Rome imposes her story still upon this late generation (Henry David Thoreau).

ESSENTIALS:

Rome Tourism (www.romaturismo.it/v2/en/main.asp) gives links to everything you need to know, from accommodations to tours, including some very useful itineraries for either 48 or 96-hour stops, great for a quick visit to the Eternal City. (www.romaturismo.it/v2/romain48ore/en/romain4896ore.html)

Context Rome (www.contextrome.com) arranges tours (and more) in Rome for those who wish more than a superficial look. I took their Vatican tour — and spent almost five hours roaming the museum galleries and then St. Peter’s with a philosophy graduate student from Duke University who was studying Latin in Rome.

Susan McKee can be reached at Susan@globalfoodie.com.

During a recent visit to France, planned more for viticulture than history, it became impossible to ignore all the military monuments and cemeteries in the green fields and vineyards of the lush farmland north of Paris.  This land was historically connected to America’s participation in World Wars I and II. Everyone had a story that connected them to the horror during those long years of battle. Conversations about grape harvests, architecture, gastronomy, and even bread all led back to, “The war…”

I Met A Man Who Loved His Bread
By Richard Frisbie

M. Boizard is a lifelong baker who collected bread related items as he baked his way into semi-retirement. Now, M. Boizard tends his collection at the Musee du pain; but I think of it as the Bread Museum.

We met on a bridge near his home in Fismes, France. I’d stopped to photograph the blossoming crabapple trees that stood next to a picturesque little mill along the La Vesle River.  When he learned I was American he pointed said that our 28th Division took the bridge in 1918, after a weeklong firefight. “Hundreds of Americans were killed to liberate my village,” he said. Then he invited me to his home – or so I thought.

This occurred all over France. Two Thousand and eight was the 90th anniversary of World War I’s end. France had been commemorating the anniversaries of various battles for the previous four years until the culmination of ceremonies on November 11th. I was walking in French and American soldier’s footsteps. Everywhere I went the French people treated me as if I’d been in the Verdun trenches with them.

Forget what you might have heard about the French. They remember the World Wars better than we do. After all, the fighting happened in their back yards. They haven’t forgotten America’s help winning, either. I was received warmly wherever I went. And so, I accepted Mr. Boizard’s invitation.

With his little English and my nonexistent French it is no wonder I misunderstood. It wasn’t to his home we went, but down an alley next to the bridge, where I found myself in his bread museum. Outside he had a large German wood-burning oven on wheels, which is still towed and used at events. There were also two antique tractors, one French, circa 1957, and the other a 1955 English version. Both were once used to harvest wheat, and both still run.

It’s far more difficult to describe the inside of the museum. There was so much stuff packed into one large room that, at first, my eyes couldn’t focus on just one object. Gradually, though, I discerned a path, beginning with early bread making implements and eventually leading up to the present time.

Everything related to bread and bread-making art

was under this one roof. There were tools and machines for mixing, shaping, baking, twisting, rising, even for harvesting and reaping the wheat. I even watched an English video that showed how French bread was made. With floor to ceiling displays it was obvious that bread was truly his passion.

There were some models and images of local windmills where the grain was ground. He told me that in World War I the Germans machine-gunned the blades off the windmills because the French Resistance used them to as a landmark to locate enemy bunkers and stored munitions. That meant the French were often without flour for bread until the American liberation. That explained why he also had three flour sacks on display labeled “US FLOUR.” The soldiers who saved the village brought the ingredients for the French (and every other cultures’) staff of life. And, there’s nothing more important to a Frenchman or woman than bread. It’s no wonder the Americans were treated like heroes!

Over flutes of champagne he showed off his proudest memento. It was the newspaper account of his induction into La Commanderie de France des Talmeliers Bon Pain, the organization of French bread lovers. His homage to bread, his museum, earned him an honorary membership in this prestigious fraternity of bakers. It also earned him mention there as a man who followed his passion to create an incredible bread monument.

For more information:
Musee du pain:  03 26 48 00 13
Admission: 3.5 Euros

Official French Government Tourist Office: www.franceguide.com

Air France:  www.airfrance.us

Meuse Department of Tourism: www.tourisme-meuse.com

La Marne Tourism Office: www.tourisme-en-champagne.com

Tourist Office of Reims: www.reims-tourisme.com

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I Met A Man Who Loved His Willows … and Helped Save a Rose

By Richard Frisbie

France’s Champagne region is known for its baskets woven from willow branches. In fact, the French National School of Basket Weaving is located in Champagne. So, the next time you think of Champagne, think baskets, not bubbly, and you’ll win the admiration of Dominique Brochet-Lanvin.

Dominique Brochet-Lanvin, along with his wife, son, dog and a few rascally puppies, calls Botanique de la Presle their home. It is an arboretum, nursery and a labor of love in the French countryside outside of Epernay in Montagne de reims.

Dominique is a salixophile, or lover of willows.  “There are 500 to 600 varieties of salix” he told me. “No one knows for sure. I’m trying to collect them all here.”

When I told him that I only knew of the weeping willow, he said: “As we say in France, that is the one that hides the rest.” Then he told me a charming story so typical of the French.

“Before he died, Napoleon requested that a weeping willow be planted on his grave. It became the custom for everyone who visited his tomb to take a cutting home to plant. His weeping willow spread around the world. Now, what he couldn’t conquer in life he has dominion over through his millions of willows.”

The bread, the wine and now the willows are the reason I love the French.

Willows have many other uses. During World War I the French lined their trenches with woven willow panels to hold back the earthen ramparts. Near St. Mihiel I actually got into some of the trenches. The German trenches were original, with walls and bunkers made from huge blocks of stone. The French trenches were reconstructed with fresh willow walls, illustrating the impermanence of their battlements. What they built for temporary protection from the barrage of enemy shells often became semi-permanent as the trench warfare dragged on for years. And all those years their willows kept them company.

Back in the arboretum, as a light rain fell, Dominique walked me through his willow collection. It was perfect gardener’s weather for admiring the various black, yellow, green, and contorted stems, each with their different size and shape catkins, or flowers. Tall, short, multi- and single-trunk bushes and trees, all willows, competed for my attention. When I recognized the pussy willow I realized that where I used to know only two types of willows, now I knew two hundred! And still the collection went on.

We toured over 1000 feet of perennial beds bordered with short woven willow fences before finishing our walk in the old fashioned rose garden. Here Dominique showed me a prized specimen of the La Marne rose he and his wife rescued from extinction. Originally named in 1915 for the Battle of La Marne, this blood-red beauty was nearly lost until they discovered a “forgotten” specimen in a relative’s garden and propagated it. Today, the Botanique de la Presle proudly sells descendants of this noble antique. While the last French veteran of the Great War has been laid to rest, the La Marne rose lives on, a testament to the hardy French stock and the toils of two gardeners of Champagne.

For more information:

Botanique de la Presle: www.jardin-brochetlanvin.com
Official French Government Tourist Office: www.franceguide.com
Meuse Department of Tourism: www.tourisme-meuse.com
La Marne Tourism Office: www.tourisme-en-champagne.com
Tourist Office of Reims: www.reims-tourisme.com
Air France: www.airfrance.us

Richard Frisbie is a food wine and travel writer; a bookseller and publisher of New York centric books; and a newspaper columnist who resides in New York’s Hudson Valley. Online, his articles appear here, on Gather.com, GoNomad.com, travellady.com and the many websites of EDGE Publications. He also writes for regional New York magazines such as Adirondack Life, Life in the Finger Lakes, and Kaatskill Life. Richard can be reached at Richard@globalfoodie.com.