Today was a day of firsts: the first time I saw such a long line of people waiting for a restaurant to open; the first time I saw someone cut in such a line, and the first time that I almost cried tears of joy due to sushi.
Kyubei is a 17-year-old, 5-floor establishment which is famous for some of the best sushi in Tokyo (and hence the world). I had a bit of trouble finding the restaurant, due to the strange numbered-block address system in Tokyo. But once I saw a frantic bunch of people loading fish from a truck around 11 a.m., I had a feeling I was in the right place.
I was around #25 in line. The waitress helpfully assigned me to the second floor, where Kane, an English-speaking sushi chef, was to prepare my meal. I walked into the gold-and-bamboo room and tried to squish my ever-increasing frame (have you read the last few days of this blog!) onto a zabuton pillow. Soon, a lively bunch of elderly ladies sat next to me. A beautiful woman in a rose-colored kimono poured me a mug of green tea.
Three industrious sushi chefs stood against a backdrop of a large flower arrangement in a rustic stone vase. Kane was the one in the middle. As he expertly julienned a cucumber with a scary-looking knife, he asked me if there was anything I didn't like. I told him I'd eat everything, and that I was especially fond of salmon roe and sea urchin.
Kane recommended the 10-piece omakase for me, but I did him one better, asking for the 11-piece. (I was later to find that I'd made a mistake, as for the first time during my stay in Tokyo, I was actually unable to finish a meal.)
He deposited a little bowl of yuzu-laced salmon roe in front of me. They were perfect little orange bubbles, not compromised by too much salt or sugar.
Kane also let me try a piece of a watermelon pickle he was slicing, and then he gave me a bowl of shredded daikon and wakame seaweed.
It was time for sushi - a carnival of crunchy, melty and chewy fish. This sushi would be served a piece at a time, dipped in a bowl of soy sauce and eaten by hand. First was a rosy piece of medium fatty tuna. The tuna melted in my mouth and the rice was slightly warm. Next came glistening, translucent fluke, with a bed of bright green chives between the fish and the rice.
Sea-salt-sprinkled squid was next. I was really delighted by the use of salt, chives, ginger and garlic to highlight the particular deliciousness of each fish.
Kane, remembering that I loved sea urchin, piled the sweet, creamy orange uni atop some rice, dabbed it with some soy sauce, and wrapped up the little present with a strip of crisp, dark nori seaweed.
Next was a bowl of sweet white miso soup in which floated the tiniest clams. While I sucked the shells, I noticed a few brown, mottled creatures with rainbow-colored tails wriggling around on a bamboo tray. Upon closer inspection they appeared to be shrimp. I wondered if we would be eating live shrimp. (On a related note, a friend told me that a particular delicacy at a Fukuoka restaurant is a glass of water with tiny swimming fish.)
These shrimp were indeed for me and the women next to me, although they would not be alive by the time we ate them! The flesh was gelatinous and sweet. We were told not to eat them without soy.
Striped shima-aji was next, drizzled with a bit of sudachi (Japanese lime). In contrast to some of the more gelatinous, creamy or melty fish from before, this fish was chewy.
A crunchy cooked head-on shrimp was next - I couldn't bring myself to eat the head and eyes, but the people next to me did so happily. (I guess it's a block I have.)
Next I enjoyed a piece of akagai (red shellfish) and a piece of shockingly good fatty tuna. Then, Kane asked if I liked garlic. (Of course!) He sprinkled some onto a piece of bonito.
Cool round daikon pickles were next. I wondered if the end of the meal had arrived.
Nope. Along came a meditation on the delicious eel: two charred, almost nutty portions of the fish arrived, one sweetened and one salted. "Oishii!" exclaimed the women next to me. I heartily agreed.
I'd never eaten what came next: daikon sandwiches with a filling of sour plum puree and licoricey shiso leaf. I was starting to become alarmingly full. Six pieces of maki arrived: tuna, kampyo gourd and akagai. And then there was a plate of steaming egg triangles. There was simply no room left in my stomach. "O naka ga ippai! Doozo," I said, motioning to the elderly women that they could have the sushi I wouldn't be able to eat. They laughed and obliged. There was no way something so amazing should go to waste.
I tried to take a bite out of the dessert pears, and had to give up in earnest. Next time I'll listen to Kane!
Sushi Kyubei Ginza: Ginza 8-7-6, +81 (03) 3571-6523, Tokyo.
Monday, December 11, 2006
Sunday, December 10, 2006
Kabocha: Japanese Pumpkin
According to today's Taste of Home feature in the Daily Yomiuri, kabocha is traditionally eaten on the day of the winter solstice.
The sweet orange squash was all over the place when I visited Kamakura today. First I enjoyed it in croquette form; the New Quick store at the Kamakura JR station sold crispy battered patties with a center of freshly-pureed kabocha and onion. Then the kabocha made an appearance in my bowl of tempura don... the vegetable was soft and almost caramel-sweet under its layer of light batter. Finally, on the way to see the Hase Kannon temple, I found a store which exclusively sold kabocha fudge!
The sweet orange squash was all over the place when I visited Kamakura today. First I enjoyed it in croquette form; the New Quick store at the Kamakura JR station sold crispy battered patties with a center of freshly-pureed kabocha and onion. Then the kabocha made an appearance in my bowl of tempura don... the vegetable was soft and almost caramel-sweet under its layer of light batter. Finally, on the way to see the Hase Kannon temple, I found a store which exclusively sold kabocha fudge!
Saturday, December 09, 2006
Szechwan Restaurant CHEN
In a bit of foodie serendipity, our hotel happened to house the Iron Chef's famed Szechwan Restaurant CHEN. Of course we had to try it!
We stopped in for lunch, and the place was so packed that we had to sit in the smoking section. There was a sushi-bar like area where patrons could watch the culinary pyrotechnics behind a glass window... although we would've chosen to sit over there, we were just happy to get a table.
I ordered the Lunch Course, which included an appetizer of the day, soup, Chinese bread, two main dishes and a dessert. My companion was more conservative and simply ordered a vegetable dish, which also included soup. We were also served fragrant jasmine tea.
My first dish was a cold appetizer: three thumb-sized pieces of tender squid over a cilantro-spiked tumble of julienned tree ears, glass noodles, chives and bean sprouts in a mild chili sauce. We were to find that the food was prepared with more of a Japanese aesthetic: portions, presentation and spicings were delicate. (After the meal, the waitress asked me if the food had been too spicy!)
Next was my plate of fried Chinese bread. The four thick round slices were so sweet that I wondered if they were made of rice flour, but the waitress checked and they were wheat-flour-based. (I was starting to feel bad for my companion's lack of courses and offered to share my food.)
We were then served two kinds of soup: my companion's was a chicken broth in which floated tiny tofu cubes and glass noodles, and mine was a sweetish Chinese onion soup.
No sooner had we drained our bowls than the entrees appeared! Three shiny white plates showcased: the Iron Chef's famed Szechwan shrimp - three huge prawns smothered in a red sriracha sauce with a mixed green salad; braised sea bream anointed with hot chili; and a soupy bowl of stir-fried julienned carrots, snow peas, bean sprouts and tree ears with a bowl of rice. My companion marveled at the consistency of the rice, calling it "al dente."
Dessert was a small salad of diced apples and kiwis suspended in a glass of sweet green jasmine jello! We left our meal satisfied but not stuffed.
Szechwan Restaurant CHEN: Cerulean Tower Tokyu Hotel, 26-1 Sakuragaoka-Cho, Shibuya-ku, Tokyo 150-8512, +81 (03) 3476-3000.
We stopped in for lunch, and the place was so packed that we had to sit in the smoking section. There was a sushi-bar like area where patrons could watch the culinary pyrotechnics behind a glass window... although we would've chosen to sit over there, we were just happy to get a table.
I ordered the Lunch Course, which included an appetizer of the day, soup, Chinese bread, two main dishes and a dessert. My companion was more conservative and simply ordered a vegetable dish, which also included soup. We were also served fragrant jasmine tea.
My first dish was a cold appetizer: three thumb-sized pieces of tender squid over a cilantro-spiked tumble of julienned tree ears, glass noodles, chives and bean sprouts in a mild chili sauce. We were to find that the food was prepared with more of a Japanese aesthetic: portions, presentation and spicings were delicate. (After the meal, the waitress asked me if the food had been too spicy!)
Next was my plate of fried Chinese bread. The four thick round slices were so sweet that I wondered if they were made of rice flour, but the waitress checked and they were wheat-flour-based. (I was starting to feel bad for my companion's lack of courses and offered to share my food.)
We were then served two kinds of soup: my companion's was a chicken broth in which floated tiny tofu cubes and glass noodles, and mine was a sweetish Chinese onion soup.
No sooner had we drained our bowls than the entrees appeared! Three shiny white plates showcased: the Iron Chef's famed Szechwan shrimp - three huge prawns smothered in a red sriracha sauce with a mixed green salad; braised sea bream anointed with hot chili; and a soupy bowl of stir-fried julienned carrots, snow peas, bean sprouts and tree ears with a bowl of rice. My companion marveled at the consistency of the rice, calling it "al dente."
Dessert was a small salad of diced apples and kiwis suspended in a glass of sweet green jasmine jello! We left our meal satisfied but not stuffed.
Szechwan Restaurant CHEN: Cerulean Tower Tokyu Hotel, 26-1 Sakuragaoka-Cho, Shibuya-ku, Tokyo 150-8512, +81 (03) 3476-3000.
Thursday, December 07, 2006
10-Course Meal at Higashi-Yama Tokyo
A few more days of eating like I did tonight, and I'll have a promising new career as a sumo wrestler! Yet the cuisine at Higashi-Yama was so exquisite that all caloric concerns slipped my mind.
You'd never know that such an amazing restaurant lurked behind a nondescript concrete wall near the Shibuya district. But once we opened the scratched metal door, we were transported into a dim, Zenlike foyer which led into private rooms for each party. There were seven in our group, and we sat around a table of bamboo latticework encased in glass. Our friend Yuki, who is something of a food encyclopedia, ordered us a rice shochu which had been aged in cedar for 800 years. The clear liquid was so mild and sweet that I wondered if it indeed contained any alcohol.
The door opened, and we were served our first course: a cold tofu custard accented with crunchy lotus root and shungiku, a green vegetable. Then our appetites were whetted by a plate containing four slices of sashimi: red snapper, melt-in-your-mouth tuna, and two slices of slippery Japanese mackerel.
Next was a cube of pressed oyster and fish cake in a clear bonito broth with a sliver of Japanese yuzu citrus and a sweet leaf of spinach. We slurped this up in no time, and were then served two plump grilled scallops on a bed of arugula salad mixed with crisp asparagus and soft-boiled egg, the yolk of which provided a creamy dressing.
A small plate of delicate tempura was next - two pieces of lightly fried monkfish and a strip of red pepper were accompanied by a tiny spray of pink Niigata sea salt for dipping. According to Yuki, the artisanal salt had been extracted from seaweed, and the serving of the tempura course signified the middle of the meal. Although the portions were small, their cumulative effect was such that I was starting to wonder if I'd be able to finish another five courses!
We then enjoyed braised, deep-sea snapper-like fish in a warm ponzu broth with scallions and shredded daikon radish. Soon after that was a plate of cooked spicy cod roe.
Course number eight was the entree: a choice of walnut-fed Iberico ham with Japanese leeks in a soy broth or seared "kue," a fish which is native to Japan. Yuki said it was known for its "ugly face and delicious taste."
The last savory course was a giant communal bowl of udon in its own cooking broth, which we swirled in a mixture of dried ginger, scallions and a cold soy broth. The udon was chewy and tasty even without sauce.
By now, my stomach was starting to protest, but it was time for dessert, which was a two-toned and two-textured. A liquid layer of dark green, sweet matcha coulis sat atop a dense, creamy coconut custard. When the two layers were mixed together, the result was mind-bogglingly delicious.
I highly recommend Higashi-Yama!
Higashi-Yama, Meguro-ku, Tokyo, Japan, +81 (03) 5720-1300.
You'd never know that such an amazing restaurant lurked behind a nondescript concrete wall near the Shibuya district. But once we opened the scratched metal door, we were transported into a dim, Zenlike foyer which led into private rooms for each party. There were seven in our group, and we sat around a table of bamboo latticework encased in glass. Our friend Yuki, who is something of a food encyclopedia, ordered us a rice shochu which had been aged in cedar for 800 years. The clear liquid was so mild and sweet that I wondered if it indeed contained any alcohol.
The door opened, and we were served our first course: a cold tofu custard accented with crunchy lotus root and shungiku, a green vegetable. Then our appetites were whetted by a plate containing four slices of sashimi: red snapper, melt-in-your-mouth tuna, and two slices of slippery Japanese mackerel.
Next was a cube of pressed oyster and fish cake in a clear bonito broth with a sliver of Japanese yuzu citrus and a sweet leaf of spinach. We slurped this up in no time, and were then served two plump grilled scallops on a bed of arugula salad mixed with crisp asparagus and soft-boiled egg, the yolk of which provided a creamy dressing.
A small plate of delicate tempura was next - two pieces of lightly fried monkfish and a strip of red pepper were accompanied by a tiny spray of pink Niigata sea salt for dipping. According to Yuki, the artisanal salt had been extracted from seaweed, and the serving of the tempura course signified the middle of the meal. Although the portions were small, their cumulative effect was such that I was starting to wonder if I'd be able to finish another five courses!
We then enjoyed braised, deep-sea snapper-like fish in a warm ponzu broth with scallions and shredded daikon radish. Soon after that was a plate of cooked spicy cod roe.
Course number eight was the entree: a choice of walnut-fed Iberico ham with Japanese leeks in a soy broth or seared "kue," a fish which is native to Japan. Yuki said it was known for its "ugly face and delicious taste."
The last savory course was a giant communal bowl of udon in its own cooking broth, which we swirled in a mixture of dried ginger, scallions and a cold soy broth. The udon was chewy and tasty even without sauce.
By now, my stomach was starting to protest, but it was time for dessert, which was a two-toned and two-textured. A liquid layer of dark green, sweet matcha coulis sat atop a dense, creamy coconut custard. When the two layers were mixed together, the result was mind-bogglingly delicious.
I highly recommend Higashi-Yama!
Higashi-Yama, Meguro-ku, Tokyo, Japan, +81 (03) 5720-1300.
Eel Lunch at Unagi Matsukawa
You might know that in Japan, there are separate restaurants for sushi, tempura, shabu-shabu, etc., in contrast to the more one-size-fits-all approach to the Japanese restaurant in the U.S.
With this in mind, my companion and I had lunch at Unagi Matsukawa, a tiny Shibuya eel chainlet. Many different lunch sets were available, including an eel rice bowl, eel sushi, eel and scrambled eggs over rice, and eel both with and without sauce. My companion ordered the eel over rice, and I ordered the sauceless shiroyaki, which I'd been dying to try in Japan ever since buying the frozen version at Mitsuwa in Edgewater, NJ.
Both sets came with a clear, smoky-flavored bonito soup and a small dish of mild, not very salty pickles. My companion also enjoyed a tarragon-y corn and lettuce salad, and my set included stewed freeze-dried tofu, carrots and taro. Most important, the eel was unforgettable. Mine was moist, flaky and tender (it's often chewy in the U.S.) and I dipped it into an astringent ponzu sauce.
After a cup of roasted green tea, we were on our way.
Unagi Matsukawa: Shibuya-ku, Tokyo, Japan, +81 (03) 3461-1065.
With this in mind, my companion and I had lunch at Unagi Matsukawa, a tiny Shibuya eel chainlet. Many different lunch sets were available, including an eel rice bowl, eel sushi, eel and scrambled eggs over rice, and eel both with and without sauce. My companion ordered the eel over rice, and I ordered the sauceless shiroyaki, which I'd been dying to try in Japan ever since buying the frozen version at Mitsuwa in Edgewater, NJ.
Both sets came with a clear, smoky-flavored bonito soup and a small dish of mild, not very salty pickles. My companion also enjoyed a tarragon-y corn and lettuce salad, and my set included stewed freeze-dried tofu, carrots and taro. Most important, the eel was unforgettable. Mine was moist, flaky and tender (it's often chewy in the U.S.) and I dipped it into an astringent ponzu sauce.
After a cup of roasted green tea, we were on our way.
Unagi Matsukawa: Shibuya-ku, Tokyo, Japan, +81 (03) 3461-1065.
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
Sushizanmai
I wish I hadn't eaten all three meals during the flight from New York, I thought as I walked into Sushizanmai with my companion and some friends. Sushizanmai, located in the famous Tsukiji Fish Market district, is a 24-hour, jam-packed "fish-and-nothing-but-the-fish" sushi bar. Giant sheets of striated pink tuna lie on a cutting board next to a fish tank, and all manner of delicious orange, pink and silver fish decorate bamboo trays.
We let our friends order for us, and the culinary onslaught began with the sashimi tray: slick yellowtail, gummy squid, head-on sweet shrimp, creamy sea urchin, and rich fatty tuna. "This squid is so tender," I remarked, thinking of the crunchy, inferior versions I've eaten.
A giant bowl of seaweed soup arrived next, as well as a bowl of something I didn't recognize: a gooey, brain-like mass accompanied by julienned cucumbers and seaweed. "What's this?" I asked. "Shiratako ponzu," said our friend, "or, monkfish sperm." My eyes bugged out of my head, but I figured I should try anything once. (The milky shiratako was not exactly to my liking!)
Sushi was next. Aburi-toro, or scallion-topped broiled fatty tuna, was a flavorful bite of heaven. We also ordered the jo-anago, a long, thin slice of white eel with a drop of sauce. By now, I was kicking myself for having eaten that slice of cheese pizza on American Airlines! (By the way, if you want the Japanese in-flight menu, you must order it in advance.)
As we blissfully stuffed ourselves, our friends told us that the Tsukiji Fish Market may be closing within a few years. "I wonder what will happen to this restaurant?" I asked. "I don't know," said our friends, "but there will always be the true spirit of Edo (Old Tokyo) around Tsukiji."
"Now I'm getting full," lamented my companion. But there was still more food, cooked this time... maitake mushroom tempura fried in the freshest oil imaginable, thin slices of gingered yellowtail, and a perfectly salted, moist, meaty yellowtail head and jaw (our friends ate the eye!).
Sushizanmai: 104-0045 Chuo-ku, Tokyo, Japan, +81 (03) 5148-3737.
We let our friends order for us, and the culinary onslaught began with the sashimi tray: slick yellowtail, gummy squid, head-on sweet shrimp, creamy sea urchin, and rich fatty tuna. "This squid is so tender," I remarked, thinking of the crunchy, inferior versions I've eaten.
A giant bowl of seaweed soup arrived next, as well as a bowl of something I didn't recognize: a gooey, brain-like mass accompanied by julienned cucumbers and seaweed. "What's this?" I asked. "Shiratako ponzu," said our friend, "or, monkfish sperm." My eyes bugged out of my head, but I figured I should try anything once. (The milky shiratako was not exactly to my liking!)
Sushi was next. Aburi-toro, or scallion-topped broiled fatty tuna, was a flavorful bite of heaven. We also ordered the jo-anago, a long, thin slice of white eel with a drop of sauce. By now, I was kicking myself for having eaten that slice of cheese pizza on American Airlines! (By the way, if you want the Japanese in-flight menu, you must order it in advance.)
As we blissfully stuffed ourselves, our friends told us that the Tsukiji Fish Market may be closing within a few years. "I wonder what will happen to this restaurant?" I asked. "I don't know," said our friends, "but there will always be the true spirit of Edo (Old Tokyo) around Tsukiji."
"Now I'm getting full," lamented my companion. But there was still more food, cooked this time... maitake mushroom tempura fried in the freshest oil imaginable, thin slices of gingered yellowtail, and a perfectly salted, moist, meaty yellowtail head and jaw (our friends ate the eye!).
Sushizanmai: 104-0045 Chuo-ku, Tokyo, Japan, +81 (03) 5148-3737.
Cerulean Tower Tokyu Hotel
Only one day has gone by, and already I'm wishing I could stay at the Cerulean Tower Tokyu Hotel for the rest of my life. This hotel is only five years old, and boasts a Noh theatre and jazz club as well as the Iron Chef's Szechuan restaurant.
Our room's deep Japanese-style bath is super-luxurious, and the beds are so comfortable that even the most jet-lagged traveler will soon fall asleep. Both Japanese-style buckwheat pillows and Western-style soft pillows are provided. (Can I have one sent home, I wonder.)
My companion and I just went down to the Caramelo brunch buffet and were amazed by the variety! Just the fruit selection alone is amazing - there are prunes, Chinese matrimony fruits, mikan tangerines, and baby bananas, all served with your choice of yogurt, muesli or assorted fruit sauces. There are pastries with kiwi marmalade, cold cuts, bacon and sausage, fried, scrambled, hard-boiled and frittata eggs, and finally, there is a woman at a new-fangled juicer loaded with 20 oranges! (The fresh-squeezed is great, if 1300 yen.)
More to come...
Cerulean Tower Tokyu Hotel, 26-1 Sakuragaoka-Cho, Shibuya-ku, Tokyo 150-8512, +81 (03) 3476-3000.
Our room's deep Japanese-style bath is super-luxurious, and the beds are so comfortable that even the most jet-lagged traveler will soon fall asleep. Both Japanese-style buckwheat pillows and Western-style soft pillows are provided. (Can I have one sent home, I wonder.)
My companion and I just went down to the Caramelo brunch buffet and were amazed by the variety! Just the fruit selection alone is amazing - there are prunes, Chinese matrimony fruits, mikan tangerines, and baby bananas, all served with your choice of yogurt, muesli or assorted fruit sauces. There are pastries with kiwi marmalade, cold cuts, bacon and sausage, fried, scrambled, hard-boiled and frittata eggs, and finally, there is a woman at a new-fangled juicer loaded with 20 oranges! (The fresh-squeezed is great, if 1300 yen.)
More to come...
Cerulean Tower Tokyu Hotel, 26-1 Sakuragaoka-Cho, Shibuya-ku, Tokyo 150-8512, +81 (03) 3476-3000.
Monday, August 28, 2006
A Garden Getaway: Meadowlark Inn - Brattleboro, VT
There is the loveliest array of fresh produce in my kitchen. Bright green cucumbers, heirloom tomatoes in all shapes and sizes (even an intriguingly-named "chocolate tomato"), and sprigs of fragrant basil spill out of a large paper bag. All of these luscious veggies came not from a grocery store, but from the lovingly tended garden at the Meadowlark Inn. Deb and Lucia, the inn's gracious owners, delighted me with ever-changing breakfasts and sent me home with this bag of treasure. I cannot wait to drizzle some extra-virgin olive oil over one of these juicy, ripe tomatoes.
I must briefly repress this impulse, however, in order to describe the breakfasts! Deb and Lucia, who trained as master gardeners and chefs before opening the Meadowlark 4 years ago, prepare two daily breakfasts (sweet and savory) with local, organic ingredients. Last night, Lucia whipped up some pesto from the freshly-picked basil, and this morning she incorporated it into a delicious round frittata topped with sweet cherry tomatoes, also from the garden. The other choice this morning was French toast with cherries and maple pork sausage. Both selections were served with a large hunk of spice cake and a fruit salad with mangos and pineapples.
Yesterday, when faced with the difficult choice between Lilac Farms maple syrup-drizzled banana pancakes and two eggs over easy on a crispy-edged potato-Parmesan pancake, I opted for the latter. (I couldn't finish the included iced blueberry turnover!) And I still had the afternoon lemonade and oatmeal raisin cookies and evening tea and chocolates to look forward to.
I invite you to visit the Meadowlark Inn's Website.
Meadowlark Inn: Orchard St., Brattleboro, VT, (800) 616-6359.
I must briefly repress this impulse, however, in order to describe the breakfasts! Deb and Lucia, who trained as master gardeners and chefs before opening the Meadowlark 4 years ago, prepare two daily breakfasts (sweet and savory) with local, organic ingredients. Last night, Lucia whipped up some pesto from the freshly-picked basil, and this morning she incorporated it into a delicious round frittata topped with sweet cherry tomatoes, also from the garden. The other choice this morning was French toast with cherries and maple pork sausage. Both selections were served with a large hunk of spice cake and a fruit salad with mangos and pineapples.
Yesterday, when faced with the difficult choice between Lilac Farms maple syrup-drizzled banana pancakes and two eggs over easy on a crispy-edged potato-Parmesan pancake, I opted for the latter. (I couldn't finish the included iced blueberry turnover!) And I still had the afternoon lemonade and oatmeal raisin cookies and evening tea and chocolates to look forward to.
I invite you to visit the Meadowlark Inn's Website.
Meadowlark Inn: Orchard St., Brattleboro, VT, (800) 616-6359.
Sunday, January 08, 2006
Eric Ripert's Blue and Periwinkle - Grand Cayman Ritz-Carlton
There is a lot of fanfare surrounding the opening of the new Grand Cayman Ritz-Carlton. In my opinion, the hotel's restaurants deserve their own celebration. Chef Eric Ripert of Le Bernardin is now introducing his amazing talents with seafood to a whole new audience. (Incidentally, Le Bernardin has just been voted New York's best restaurant.)
The Ritz-Carlton Grand Cayman features three restaurants: Blue, a sophisticated poolside prix-fixe affair, Periwinkle, a casual, open-air room festooned with mobiles, and Seven, a steakhouse. (My companion and I dined at the first two. Our other nights were spent at Ragazzi and Bamboo, with one regrettable experience at Decker's.)
Periwinkle and Blue both share a fun mix-and-match concept. The diner can choose one of five meats or fish (at Periwinkle, they are tuna, shrimp, chicken, skirt steak and swordfish; at Blue, the choices are wahoo, swordfish, tuna, lamb and N.Y. Strip). One of five sauces and sides are recommended for each dish, but you can experiment with your own selections. (I put my faith in the chef's recommendations, but my companion decided to be more adventurous.)
If you like swordfish but are often disappointed in its preparation, you'll experience a revelation at Blue and Periwinkle. My companion ordered the swordfish at Periwinkle, and I was so amazed by it that I later ordered it at Blue. It was as delicate, moist and tender as if it had been poached, arriving in two delicious slabs, faintly marked with browned grill crosshatches. I think I'm now spoiled for life.
Periwinkle is truly a restaurant the whole family can enjoy; we saw several children happily enjoying grilled pizzas, mini-burgers and Cubanos. I ordered the soupe de poisson, which was poured into my bowl while I admired the accompanying crostini, flask of saffron aioli and small bowl of grated Gruyere. You can make the light, saffron-scented broth as rich as you want; I think I went overboard with the aromatic aioli.
Next up was my medium-rare grilled tuna with a refreshing endive arugula salad and tangy mango mustard. My companion chose to accompany the swordfish with the recommended sides for the chicken breast - warm toasted fregula (a semolina pasta shaped like tiny lentils) in a pine nutty, spinach-flecked Moroccan preparation, and vibrant green pesto. (The recommended sides for the swordfish were herbed vinaigrette and grilled asparagus.)
While we enjoyed all of this, we kept going back to our basket of hot fresh rolls. So we were quite stuffed when the dessert menu came around. But with selections like yuzu parfait and mango cheesecake, how could we resist? We ended up with an imported cheese plate - pungent Stilton, goat cheese and a syrupy soft washed-rind French cow's milk cheese served with sweet-poached shallots, kumquats and figs, and an unbearably delicious warm dark chocolate tart covered in melted whipped cream.
You might wonder how we managed to tackle Blue's prix fixe a couple nights later, but the appetite is a miraculous thing. So, we soon found ourselves sipping Seghesio Zinfandel while pondering Blue's five-course and the three-course menus. The helpful waiter advised us that Blue's five-course prix fixe offers uncommonly large portions, with 5 oz. of meat or fish on average per course. We were a bit intimidated by that and decided on the three-course, which included appetizer, entree and (the all-important) dessert.
While we waited for our appetizers, we admired the dimly lit, blue-accented room. Our white-clothed table was decorated with blue flower petals and chic Michael Aram tableware. A tuna tartare amuse-bouche arrived on an attractive aqua leaf-shaped plate.
We noticed that Ripert had looked to Caribbean cuisine for some of his inspiration. The entree menu included a West Indian curried chicken and a baked yellowtail with plantains. There was even a salad with breadfruit croutons; ever since reading Robinson Crusoe, I had wondered about the taste of this intriguingly-named food. The black-truffle-dressed salad of baby greens and parsley surrounded several thin slices of thyme-seared yellowfin tuna, each slice a deep rose bordered by two stripes of light pink. And the breadfruit? There were a couple small cubes of it; my companion and I thought it tasted like potato. My companion was floored by the lobster in a chilled ginger coconut soup accented with diced avocado and mango. Red, yellow and green, the bowl was a tasty tableau.
For dinner, I chose the aforementioned swordfish; Blue's version included a luscious, thick passionfruit Bearnaise sauce ("Say when," said the waiter as he spooned it onto my plate) and a heap of spinach topped with coconut and cashews. My companion's choice was the yellowfin tuna with baby bok choy. The bok choy was perfectly tender, soft, and devoid of extra moisture.
We'd again made the mistake of overly indulging in bread, but this time, dessert was a mandatory course! The waiter recommended both the cider doughnuts/cinnamon beignets and the coffee-infused chocolate ganache tart; I went with the latter suggestion. Although I appreciated its drizzle of dulce de leche, I preferred the chocolate-through-and-through tart at Periwinkle; Blue's tart held a liquidy mixture of chocolate and caramel. (My companion enjoyed the millefeuille layered with banana cream.)
Our last bite of the heavenly Blue was a housemade pistachio-chocolate truffle.
Blue and Periwinkle: The Ritz-Carlton, Seven Mile Beach, Grand Cayman, Cayman Islands. (345) 943-9000.
The Ritz-Carlton Grand Cayman features three restaurants: Blue, a sophisticated poolside prix-fixe affair, Periwinkle, a casual, open-air room festooned with mobiles, and Seven, a steakhouse. (My companion and I dined at the first two. Our other nights were spent at Ragazzi and Bamboo, with one regrettable experience at Decker's.)
Periwinkle and Blue both share a fun mix-and-match concept. The diner can choose one of five meats or fish (at Periwinkle, they are tuna, shrimp, chicken, skirt steak and swordfish; at Blue, the choices are wahoo, swordfish, tuna, lamb and N.Y. Strip). One of five sauces and sides are recommended for each dish, but you can experiment with your own selections. (I put my faith in the chef's recommendations, but my companion decided to be more adventurous.)
If you like swordfish but are often disappointed in its preparation, you'll experience a revelation at Blue and Periwinkle. My companion ordered the swordfish at Periwinkle, and I was so amazed by it that I later ordered it at Blue. It was as delicate, moist and tender as if it had been poached, arriving in two delicious slabs, faintly marked with browned grill crosshatches. I think I'm now spoiled for life.
Periwinkle is truly a restaurant the whole family can enjoy; we saw several children happily enjoying grilled pizzas, mini-burgers and Cubanos. I ordered the soupe de poisson, which was poured into my bowl while I admired the accompanying crostini, flask of saffron aioli and small bowl of grated Gruyere. You can make the light, saffron-scented broth as rich as you want; I think I went overboard with the aromatic aioli.
Next up was my medium-rare grilled tuna with a refreshing endive arugula salad and tangy mango mustard. My companion chose to accompany the swordfish with the recommended sides for the chicken breast - warm toasted fregula (a semolina pasta shaped like tiny lentils) in a pine nutty, spinach-flecked Moroccan preparation, and vibrant green pesto. (The recommended sides for the swordfish were herbed vinaigrette and grilled asparagus.)
While we enjoyed all of this, we kept going back to our basket of hot fresh rolls. So we were quite stuffed when the dessert menu came around. But with selections like yuzu parfait and mango cheesecake, how could we resist? We ended up with an imported cheese plate - pungent Stilton, goat cheese and a syrupy soft washed-rind French cow's milk cheese served with sweet-poached shallots, kumquats and figs, and an unbearably delicious warm dark chocolate tart covered in melted whipped cream.
You might wonder how we managed to tackle Blue's prix fixe a couple nights later, but the appetite is a miraculous thing. So, we soon found ourselves sipping Seghesio Zinfandel while pondering Blue's five-course and the three-course menus. The helpful waiter advised us that Blue's five-course prix fixe offers uncommonly large portions, with 5 oz. of meat or fish on average per course. We were a bit intimidated by that and decided on the three-course, which included appetizer, entree and (the all-important) dessert.
While we waited for our appetizers, we admired the dimly lit, blue-accented room. Our white-clothed table was decorated with blue flower petals and chic Michael Aram tableware. A tuna tartare amuse-bouche arrived on an attractive aqua leaf-shaped plate.
We noticed that Ripert had looked to Caribbean cuisine for some of his inspiration. The entree menu included a West Indian curried chicken and a baked yellowtail with plantains. There was even a salad with breadfruit croutons; ever since reading Robinson Crusoe, I had wondered about the taste of this intriguingly-named food. The black-truffle-dressed salad of baby greens and parsley surrounded several thin slices of thyme-seared yellowfin tuna, each slice a deep rose bordered by two stripes of light pink. And the breadfruit? There were a couple small cubes of it; my companion and I thought it tasted like potato. My companion was floored by the lobster in a chilled ginger coconut soup accented with diced avocado and mango. Red, yellow and green, the bowl was a tasty tableau.
For dinner, I chose the aforementioned swordfish; Blue's version included a luscious, thick passionfruit Bearnaise sauce ("Say when," said the waiter as he spooned it onto my plate) and a heap of spinach topped with coconut and cashews. My companion's choice was the yellowfin tuna with baby bok choy. The bok choy was perfectly tender, soft, and devoid of extra moisture.
We'd again made the mistake of overly indulging in bread, but this time, dessert was a mandatory course! The waiter recommended both the cider doughnuts/cinnamon beignets and the coffee-infused chocolate ganache tart; I went with the latter suggestion. Although I appreciated its drizzle of dulce de leche, I preferred the chocolate-through-and-through tart at Periwinkle; Blue's tart held a liquidy mixture of chocolate and caramel. (My companion enjoyed the millefeuille layered with banana cream.)
Our last bite of the heavenly Blue was a housemade pistachio-chocolate truffle.
Blue and Periwinkle: The Ritz-Carlton, Seven Mile Beach, Grand Cayman, Cayman Islands. (345) 943-9000.
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