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.
Monday, August 28, 2006
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.
Thursday, June 16, 2005
A Cheese Sandwich Never Tasted So Good
As I've written, I'm not very athletic, except when it comes to competitive eating. I've never even skied before! But the promise of a charming teahouse 1,000 feet up a mountain was incentive enough for me to attempt a 6.5-mile hike.
A friend and I planned to visit the Plain of the Six Glaciers Teahouse, where food supplies are trucked up by horse. Granted, if there hadn't been a meal involved, you wouldn't have caught me hiking away while munching on dry trail mix. And if I'd known what was involved in this excursion, I might have stayed at ground level and sipped tea at the Chateau Lake Louise!
It was an overcast day. I was dressed as if I were about to walk down a New York sidewalk instead of hiking up a snowy mountain. On my feet were Dansko clogs, not hiking boots. My attire consisted of a T-shirt and a leather jacket, for I was totally unaware that temperature drops as you ascend a mountain. Even worse, I wasn't carrying an umbrella.
Walking around the lake, I marveled at its gorgeous aqua hue. The scene of the lake between the mountains was so picturesque that I ignored the drops of rain that were beginning to fall. For some reason, I was certain that the drizzle wouldn't intensify.
How wrong I was. While I navigated the sharp stones with my clogs, the clouds opened and the rain began to pour. The trees provided no cover; instead, they acted as colanders. The ground turned to mud, painting my black clogs brown. Since it was the very beginning of the season (and a very rainy day), the mountain was almost empty of hikers. So, I was glad to pass a rare group of seasoned hikers, although I envied their umbrellas, rain ponchos and walking sticks. "How much farther do we have left to go?" "What do you want to hear?" they laughed. "Well, you're probably about one-third of the way there."
They didn't tell me that a large part of the trail was covered with snow. As I haltingly ascended, I tried to avoid the melting ice streams, thinking that snow would provide a more secure surface on which to walk. Unfortunately, in one instance I miscalculated, stepped on a snowbank, fell, and got a legful of water. Then, I tried not to slide back down the mountain as I walked up a slippery, snowy hill. The footprints of the few earlier hikers provided footholds. My hair was now soaking wet, and I was freezing in my wet T-shirt and jacket.
In the middle of my ordeal, I wondered about the teahouse. What was the menu like? My friend opined that only tea and bread would be available. We were both extremely hungry (although, in lieu of trail mix, I had my trusty Belgian chocolate bar). Would there be souvenir sweatshirts available so that I could change my wet clothing?
The rain eventually stopped. We slowed down to appreciate the abstract designs the snow made on the dark grey mountains. The air was the cleanest I've ever breathed.
And then, we turned to the right and there it was... the teahouse! A two-story log cabin, it could have been the Ritz-Carlton as far as I was concerned. Our tired legs carried us up the stairs and we deposited ourselves at a red wooden table.
There were no sweatshirts for my shivering frame, but there were T-shirts. And fortunately, there was more than bread on the menu (although there was homemade bread). There were tuna, cheddar, "handmade hummus," and PB&J sandwiches, vegetable soup, chips and salsa, fresh scones, chocolate cake and apple pie, fair-trade coffee, tea and hot chocolate. According to the menu, all food was made fresh on a propane stove and water came from a pristine underground stream.
The tea arrived lukewarm, but the coffee was strong and hot; I asked for seconds to try to warm up. The vegetable soup was hearty and filled with pasta. Corn chips and salsa were store-bought and lackluster, but I really enjoyed my sharp cheddar sandwich on thick fresh bread. (It more than made up for the gummy apple pie!) I downed all food with abandon; it's amazing what hiking can do for your appetite! (As if I needed any help in that department.)
The Plain of the Six Glaciers Teahouse: Lake Louise, Alberta, Canada.
A friend and I planned to visit the Plain of the Six Glaciers Teahouse, where food supplies are trucked up by horse. Granted, if there hadn't been a meal involved, you wouldn't have caught me hiking away while munching on dry trail mix. And if I'd known what was involved in this excursion, I might have stayed at ground level and sipped tea at the Chateau Lake Louise!
It was an overcast day. I was dressed as if I were about to walk down a New York sidewalk instead of hiking up a snowy mountain. On my feet were Dansko clogs, not hiking boots. My attire consisted of a T-shirt and a leather jacket, for I was totally unaware that temperature drops as you ascend a mountain. Even worse, I wasn't carrying an umbrella.
Walking around the lake, I marveled at its gorgeous aqua hue. The scene of the lake between the mountains was so picturesque that I ignored the drops of rain that were beginning to fall. For some reason, I was certain that the drizzle wouldn't intensify.
How wrong I was. While I navigated the sharp stones with my clogs, the clouds opened and the rain began to pour. The trees provided no cover; instead, they acted as colanders. The ground turned to mud, painting my black clogs brown. Since it was the very beginning of the season (and a very rainy day), the mountain was almost empty of hikers. So, I was glad to pass a rare group of seasoned hikers, although I envied their umbrellas, rain ponchos and walking sticks. "How much farther do we have left to go?" "What do you want to hear?" they laughed. "Well, you're probably about one-third of the way there."
They didn't tell me that a large part of the trail was covered with snow. As I haltingly ascended, I tried to avoid the melting ice streams, thinking that snow would provide a more secure surface on which to walk. Unfortunately, in one instance I miscalculated, stepped on a snowbank, fell, and got a legful of water. Then, I tried not to slide back down the mountain as I walked up a slippery, snowy hill. The footprints of the few earlier hikers provided footholds. My hair was now soaking wet, and I was freezing in my wet T-shirt and jacket.
In the middle of my ordeal, I wondered about the teahouse. What was the menu like? My friend opined that only tea and bread would be available. We were both extremely hungry (although, in lieu of trail mix, I had my trusty Belgian chocolate bar). Would there be souvenir sweatshirts available so that I could change my wet clothing?
The rain eventually stopped. We slowed down to appreciate the abstract designs the snow made on the dark grey mountains. The air was the cleanest I've ever breathed.
And then, we turned to the right and there it was... the teahouse! A two-story log cabin, it could have been the Ritz-Carlton as far as I was concerned. Our tired legs carried us up the stairs and we deposited ourselves at a red wooden table.
There were no sweatshirts for my shivering frame, but there were T-shirts. And fortunately, there was more than bread on the menu (although there was homemade bread). There were tuna, cheddar, "handmade hummus," and PB&J sandwiches, vegetable soup, chips and salsa, fresh scones, chocolate cake and apple pie, fair-trade coffee, tea and hot chocolate. According to the menu, all food was made fresh on a propane stove and water came from a pristine underground stream.
The tea arrived lukewarm, but the coffee was strong and hot; I asked for seconds to try to warm up. The vegetable soup was hearty and filled with pasta. Corn chips and salsa were store-bought and lackluster, but I really enjoyed my sharp cheddar sandwich on thick fresh bread. (It more than made up for the gummy apple pie!) I downed all food with abandon; it's amazing what hiking can do for your appetite! (As if I needed any help in that department.)
The Plain of the Six Glaciers Teahouse: Lake Louise, Alberta, Canada.
Sunday, May 29, 2005
A Peak Experience at the Banff Springs Hotel
Although I appreciate the grandeur of the mountains, I'm not much for hiking. However, I have no problem making my way up a three-tiered platter of edibles. Today, at the Rundle Lounge of the Banff Springs Hotel, a spectacular view of snow-capped peaks was the backdrop for such an indulgence.
The Rundle Lounge, which overlooks the Cascade, Rundle and Tunnel Mountains, is a great place to enjoy the Canadian Rockies without too much exertion. The cafe features assorted soups, salads and appetizers, as well as a couple of options for those who like their treats in triplicate. There is the afternoon tea, which involves three plates of chocolate-covered strawberries, white and dark chocolate mousses and assorted tarts, scones with Devonshire cream, and finger sandwiches. Afternoon tea is served only from 2-4 p.m., but the amazing "3-tiered sharing platter" is served all day. My friend and I indulged in the latter since we arrived at noon.
The bottom tier includes the popular potato flatbread with red onion, creme fraiche and British Columbian smoked salmon, and a few pieces of jumbo shrimp tempura with wasabi mayonnaise. Moving on to the middle plate, there are crab cakes, crispy spring rolls with sweet chili jam, and a mini-assortment of dim sum (pork dumplings and the like).
The "peak" of the experience is a plate featuring four Calgary cheeses (our favorite was the Camembert), ripe grapes and strawberries, crackers and flatbreads, chicken liverwurst and wild game pate. This plate was definitely the highlight for me!
Although I would have availed myself of the trio of white chocolate Brie cheesecake, Guinness chocolate cake and chai custard, my friend wanted to take a walk down the Bow River Valley trail. (For once, exercise took priority over dessert.)
Fairmont Banff Springs Hotel: 405 Spray Ave., Banff, Alberta, Canada. (403) 762-2211.
The Rundle Lounge, which overlooks the Cascade, Rundle and Tunnel Mountains, is a great place to enjoy the Canadian Rockies without too much exertion. The cafe features assorted soups, salads and appetizers, as well as a couple of options for those who like their treats in triplicate. There is the afternoon tea, which involves three plates of chocolate-covered strawberries, white and dark chocolate mousses and assorted tarts, scones with Devonshire cream, and finger sandwiches. Afternoon tea is served only from 2-4 p.m., but the amazing "3-tiered sharing platter" is served all day. My friend and I indulged in the latter since we arrived at noon.
The bottom tier includes the popular potato flatbread with red onion, creme fraiche and British Columbian smoked salmon, and a few pieces of jumbo shrimp tempura with wasabi mayonnaise. Moving on to the middle plate, there are crab cakes, crispy spring rolls with sweet chili jam, and a mini-assortment of dim sum (pork dumplings and the like).
The "peak" of the experience is a plate featuring four Calgary cheeses (our favorite was the Camembert), ripe grapes and strawberries, crackers and flatbreads, chicken liverwurst and wild game pate. This plate was definitely the highlight for me!
Although I would have availed myself of the trio of white chocolate Brie cheesecake, Guinness chocolate cake and chai custard, my friend wanted to take a walk down the Bow River Valley trail. (For once, exercise took priority over dessert.)
Fairmont Banff Springs Hotel: 405 Spray Ave., Banff, Alberta, Canada. (403) 762-2211.
Wednesday, May 25, 2005
Bernard Callebaut Chocolates
In one of life's minor injustices, there are presently no Bernard Callebaut stores in New York. Several years ago, there were two in suburban Rye and Scarsdale, but they closed for lack of business. I think the chocolates would have been wildly successful in NYC, but I don't know if there were ever plans for an NYC store. So, the only U.S. cities where you can find Bernard Callebaut chocolates are Scottsdale, AZ, Portland, OR, and Chicago. (Fortunately, there is a thriving mail-order business, with contact information below.)
Bernard Callebaut, the fourth generation of the famous Belgian chocolate family, creates chocolate truffles with distinctive fresh cream fillings. Some popular flavors are mokka (a dark chocolate half-moon filled with coffee and pear fondant), leaf (a milk chocolate leaf with black currant and milk chocolate ganache inside) and la flamme (dark chocolate with orange and caramel). More exotic flavors include petale (dark chocolate with oil of flower petals and bittersweet ganache), and in summertime, there's a truly amazing apple-raspberry truffle with a layer of fresh cream.
Bernard Callebaut Chocolates: (800) 661-8367.
Bernard Callebaut, the fourth generation of the famous Belgian chocolate family, creates chocolate truffles with distinctive fresh cream fillings. Some popular flavors are mokka (a dark chocolate half-moon filled with coffee and pear fondant), leaf (a milk chocolate leaf with black currant and milk chocolate ganache inside) and la flamme (dark chocolate with orange and caramel). More exotic flavors include petale (dark chocolate with oil of flower petals and bittersweet ganache), and in summertime, there's a truly amazing apple-raspberry truffle with a layer of fresh cream.
Bernard Callebaut Chocolates: (800) 661-8367.
Saturday, November 27, 2004
Garlic-Raspberry Ice Cream?
Walking down Atlantic Avenue in Delray Beach, Florida, I spied a curious sign: an advertisement for garlic-raspberry ice cream. The ad, posted by Foxy's Ice Cream & Dessert Cafe, attempted to persuade the reader to try this ice cream by touting its unique ability to alienate other people. "Meeting with the ex and their lawyer? Eat this ice cream and cut that meeting time in half!"
I am always in favor of culinary exploration, but this seemed rather dubious to me. Nevertheless, I turned onto South East 5th Avenue and entered a homey, cheerful ice cream shop named after somebody's dog. "So what's this about garlic-raspberry ice cream?" I asked. "Is this for real?"
A man who must have been the owner offered proudly, "It was my idea! I originally came up with it a few years ago for the Garlic Festival."
I hesitated, and then decided to take the plunge and ask for a sample. I took the spoon, held it to my lips and...
...it was all wrong! The garlic flavor stuck out like a sore thumb. Raspberries and cream is a nice combination, as is garlic and warm cream, but not raspberries, sugar, garlic and cold cream. Trying to forget the taste, I made my exit as politely as I could. (In Foxy's defense, the other flavors seemed very appealing. They included Kahlua almond fudge, tiramisu, rum raisin and toasted coconut. But I recommend that you skip that garlic-raspberry!)
I still wanted some form of berry ice cream, minus superfluous herbs and spices, so I strolled further down Atlantic Avenue. To my left was a Ben & Jerry's. But to my right was a godsend: Nonna's Cafe, the year-old gelateria which makes everything fresh on an Italian gelatomaker. One bite of Nonna's frutti del bosco multi-berry sorbetto and I was on cloud nine. (They also have a rich-as-pudding chocolate gelato and a mango sorbetto accented with chunks of fresh sweet fruit.)
Nonna's Cafe: 1136 E. Atlantic Ave., Delray Beach, FL, (561) 279-9328. Foxy's Ice Cream & Dessert Cafe: 12 SE 5th Ave., Delray Beach, FL, (561) 276-9379.
I am always in favor of culinary exploration, but this seemed rather dubious to me. Nevertheless, I turned onto South East 5th Avenue and entered a homey, cheerful ice cream shop named after somebody's dog. "So what's this about garlic-raspberry ice cream?" I asked. "Is this for real?"
A man who must have been the owner offered proudly, "It was my idea! I originally came up with it a few years ago for the Garlic Festival."
I hesitated, and then decided to take the plunge and ask for a sample. I took the spoon, held it to my lips and...
...it was all wrong! The garlic flavor stuck out like a sore thumb. Raspberries and cream is a nice combination, as is garlic and warm cream, but not raspberries, sugar, garlic and cold cream. Trying to forget the taste, I made my exit as politely as I could. (In Foxy's defense, the other flavors seemed very appealing. They included Kahlua almond fudge, tiramisu, rum raisin and toasted coconut. But I recommend that you skip that garlic-raspberry!)
I still wanted some form of berry ice cream, minus superfluous herbs and spices, so I strolled further down Atlantic Avenue. To my left was a Ben & Jerry's. But to my right was a godsend: Nonna's Cafe, the year-old gelateria which makes everything fresh on an Italian gelatomaker. One bite of Nonna's frutti del bosco multi-berry sorbetto and I was on cloud nine. (They also have a rich-as-pudding chocolate gelato and a mango sorbetto accented with chunks of fresh sweet fruit.)
Nonna's Cafe: 1136 E. Atlantic Ave., Delray Beach, FL, (561) 279-9328. Foxy's Ice Cream & Dessert Cafe: 12 SE 5th Ave., Delray Beach, FL, (561) 276-9379.
Thursday, September 09, 2004
The 2004 Bermuda Culinary Arts Festival
Here's a wonderful way to beat the November blahs this year.
Sunday, July 11, 2004
Montreal: Hotel Gault
If you're looking for a gourmet escape, I highly recommend the superb Hotel Gault in Old Montreal. Picturesque, romantic Old Montreal has been experiencing a renaissance of late with the construction of several boutique hotels, of which Hotel Gault is one.
Breakfast is included in the cost of the room, and you can either enjoy it in the modern lobby or have it delivered to your room. I opted to eat in the lobby, as there is an all-you-can-eat buffet in addition to the regular menu. The buffet features a beautiful assortment of fresh fruit, viennoiseries (French pastries) and a changing array of soft-ripened Quebec cheeses like Brie Manoir and Mi-Careme. It is difficult to decide between a fresh herb three-egg omelette with a shredded potato rosti or a stack of buttermilk pancakes with real Canadian maple syrup and sausages. The strong, smooth coffee is fair-trade.
You'll probably want to dine at one of Montreal's excellent restaurants, but if you decide to stay in, you'll delight in the eclectic dinner menu at Hotel Gault, which includes specialties such as grilled salmon with fennel salad and caviar cream, duck-leg confit, honey-glazed quail, and partridge fir jelly garnished with celeriac puree.
Each night, complementary squares of Valrhona Guanaja chocolates will send you off to dreamland.
Hotel Gault: rue Sainte-Hélène, Montréal (Québec) Canada, 1-866-904-1616.
Breakfast is included in the cost of the room, and you can either enjoy it in the modern lobby or have it delivered to your room. I opted to eat in the lobby, as there is an all-you-can-eat buffet in addition to the regular menu. The buffet features a beautiful assortment of fresh fruit, viennoiseries (French pastries) and a changing array of soft-ripened Quebec cheeses like Brie Manoir and Mi-Careme. It is difficult to decide between a fresh herb three-egg omelette with a shredded potato rosti or a stack of buttermilk pancakes with real Canadian maple syrup and sausages. The strong, smooth coffee is fair-trade.
You'll probably want to dine at one of Montreal's excellent restaurants, but if you decide to stay in, you'll delight in the eclectic dinner menu at Hotel Gault, which includes specialties such as grilled salmon with fennel salad and caviar cream, duck-leg confit, honey-glazed quail, and partridge fir jelly garnished with celeriac puree.
Each night, complementary squares of Valrhona Guanaja chocolates will send you off to dreamland.
Hotel Gault: rue Sainte-Hélène, Montréal (Québec) Canada, 1-866-904-1616.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)