NYC: Brushstroke

It was not easily that I settled on Brushstroke for Robbie's birthday dinner.  We dine out a lot, so I wanted to make sure that it was a special meal - something out of the ordinary.  My first choice, since I thought Rob would love it, Torrisi's 20-course chef's tasting menu, was booked solid, and while we were on a wait list, the chances seemed slim to none that we'd be called off of it (and, in fact, they were).  I'd read a lot about Brushstroke, and it seemed like it would be an interesting culinary experience.  I've done tasting menus before, but I'd yet to experience a kaiseki, a series of artistically presented small plates that balance the taste, texture, appearance, and colors of food.  I wasn't expecting to be hit over the head with flavor, as we would have been at Torrisi, but I expected to experience subtle flavor combinations that I might not have seen before.  Sam Sifton gave a glowing review over the summer, and while he's steered me wrong before, I scoured the blogoverse and most people seemed to agree that this place was something special.

(Source)

So it was that we wound up at Brushstroke at 9 p.m. We had to wait for a little while, so we sat and the bar and started in on some cocktails (which would later prove to have been entirely unnecessary).  The decor of the bar is pretty awesome - at first it just looks as if the walls are covered with whatever the wall-equivalent of parquet floors would be, but upon closer inspection, the cross-hatch patterns are made by the pages of books, stacked vertically and horizontally with the spines facing in.  Pretty cool.  Anyway, I went with a cucumber and almond number that was strong yet balanced, and I enjoyed the extra crunch from the smoked almonds. Since I really like almonds (smoked and non-) and booze, so there was little chance of that drink failing for me.  Rob had a ginger thing that was, well, gingery and, uh, boozy?  Yea, I'm doing a great job here.

We sat at the counter by the open kitchen, where we were able to watch the massive team of cooks prep and slice, sear and arrange, making this the third consecutive birthday meal that Robbie and I have eaten at counters (the others being the Chef's Table at Brooklyn Fare (fucking awesome) and Momofuku Ko (also absolutely ridiculous)).  Every motion, no matter how seemingly rote, was entirely deliberate and well-intentioned.  Bouley must run a tight ship.  

Brushstroke has gotten some flak about it's rigid dining room menu, where only an 8-course (regular or vegetarian) or 10-course menu are available.  Since it was a celebration, we went balls-out and opted for the 10-course Early Winter tasting menu.  We asked our waiter about the availability of beverage pairings, and he said he'd fetch the sommelier. This led to the first real misstep in the meal - the sommelier did not stop by until after the first course was served. There was likely little adverse effect of this, though, since the first course was cold, but it seemed out of order and awkward for the sommelier to speak to us for a few minutes about our options while our food sat, already served, in front of us. When we asked whether it was possible to pair every course with a wine or sake, we were presented with a couple of options.  It was possible to order a few half-bottles of wine or sake (he suggested three to complement the different stages of the meal), or, "if we drink a lot", we could have a different wine or sake paired with each meal.  Since we're a couple of lushes, we went for the full pairing. The sommelier was sometimes slow with the delivery and imperfect with timing his pours, but he was very knowledgeable, particularly about sake, for which Rob has a particular affection.  

Hawaiian Hearts of Palm, Broccoli Rabe with Yuzu Mustard Miso

Since this was a couple of weeks ago now, I don't remember much about this dish.  Except that it was cold and the flavors were bright and that, like all the dishes that followed, it was beautiful on the plate.  It didn't blow us away obviously, but I remember eating it without complaint and enjoying it.

Steamed Chawan-mushi Egg Custard, Black Truffle Sauce and Uni

Now this dish, this dish is one I am not soon to forget.  The flavors were so balanced, so restrained, and so perfect.  It was light and tasted unlike anything I'd really had before, which is what I was banking on when I decided on Brushstroke.  The black truffle sauce was understated and earthy and did not overwhelm at all the fresh salinity of the uni.  I'd eat this umpteen times over.

Today's Sashimi

A variety of sashimi was next placed in front of us, tuna, mackerel and yellowtail (I believe) each paired with a different dipping sauce, fresh grated ginger and some kick-ass wasabi.  More places should use fresh wasabi, by the way. The fish was all fresh and delicious, as you'd expect in this sort of setting.  Not life-changing, though.

Lobster Bisque with White Miso and Sake Lees

This isn't the lobster bisque of which Cape Cod memories are made.  This was thinner, with most of the body a result of miso, and as a result, it was packed with umami.  The lobster was generously portioned, expertly cooked, and delicious as lobster can be.  I'd pick this over a cream and sherry bisque any day of the week.

Sea Bass Sushi with Pickled Plum Sauce

I really enjoyed the sushi, topped with teeny droplets of pickly plum sauce, which was pungent enough to actually contribute a good amount of flavor despite its modest application. Rob found the sushi a bit too fishy tasting for his liking; ever the fan of fishy (not obviously non-rancid) fish, I savored these couple of bites.

Today's Oyster with Yuzu Dressing

Here is an oyster.  It was delicious.  

For the next three courses, the diner is asked to choose from a list of options.  Where two options were presented, we obviously each chose one for maximum tastes. 

Grilled Anago and Yam Dumpling with Ankake Sauce 

As we just said we'd have both options and share, it was up to the waiter to allocate the dishes among the two of us.  So it was that for the next course I was presented with the grilled anago and yam dumpling with ankake sauce.  This was really interesting and very delicious. I love grilled eel, so I was pumped when this was placed in front of me.  Add a Japanese hush puppy and I am good to go.  This was awesome.

Miso Marinated Black Cod with Chrysanthemum Leaf Puree

I tried a little corner of Rob's cod, and it was among the better preparations of the now-ubiquitous miso black cod I've tried.  It was meaty and substantial, and got a great blackened flavor from the grill.  

Cherrywood and Chrysanthemum Smoked Duck, Malanga Puree and Chamomile 

I was handed the duck, Robbie the pork belly.  Duck and I are having a moment right now, so our waiter read us properly and set each dish before its more eager recipient. This duck made my duck look like amateur hour (which in all fairness, I suppose it is).  It was tender, and smoky, and slightly sweet, with faint hints of spiciness and some crunch. It was, in a word, fantastic. 

Yuru-kosho Marinated Pork Belly, Sweet Onion Puree, Black Vinegar Sauce

Rob was handed the other option.  I have a limitation on the amount of non-bacon pork belly I can really eat in one go, so I was glad he was given that dish, and the boy has seemingly limitless stomach capacity for pork belly.  He really liked it, and while I can't articulate his precise reasoning for that, I can vouch for his authority on the matter.  

Now here was where there menu presented some difficulty; the "over rice" portion. Whereas the two prior courses has two options, here there were four options, but still only two of us.  Obviously two dishes would be sacrificed and thrown into my memory as Things that Are Probably Delicious but that I Will Never Know. The mixed vegetables with ankake over brown rice was an easy target, particularly since I knew I'd be getting a taste of ankake in the dumpling dish.  By the way, I'm still not precisely sure what ankake is, though a quick google search leads me to believe that it is a "starch-thickened broth with chunks of meat, vegetables or seafood" (thanks Chowhound).  The Salmon was hard to see go, though; R.I.P. Steamed Salmon with Salmon Roe and Aonori Seaweed, I hardly knew ye and your delicious little bursts of roe.

Soft Shell Crab over Rice with Chrysanthemum Petal Sauce

After consulting with our waiter, who I must say was charming and attentive, I went with the soft shell crab.  Once it arrived, any thoughts of steamed salmon dancing around my head were quelled and that first bite vindicated my choice. This was the best soft shell crab I've ever had.  It's not soft shell season here, so who knows where it was shipped in from, and something makes me think that I don't want to know what the carbon footprint of our meal was, anyway.  The crab was meaty, and crunchy, and just flawless.  Yes, there was rice, but it was rice and I ignored it to ensure I was able to finish every last bite, save for the quarter that I (generously, if I do say so myself) bestowed upon Rob.  

Stewed Wagyu Beef over Rice

The beef was flavorful and tender, the sauce not overwhelming, but I couldn't really be bothered trying to ascertain what I liked about it when I was so absorbed in my crab.  

Dessert again presented us with options - though, truth be told, we didn't know what they were.  Thankfully, our waiter was incredibly helpful in guiding us here as well and made suggestions from the choices he'd committed to memory. 

We were also presented with a box of rice crackers that were dusted with a variety of powders, some sweet, some savory, some spicy; all quite interesting. 

Soy Milk Ice Cream with Toasted Buckwheat

After divulging my tendency to shy away from the overly sweet and my general proclivity for salty desserts, the waiter told me matter-of-factly that I would be having the soy milk ice cream.  I couldn't argue with his confidence, and I love me some ice cream.  This was fucking delicious.  The ice cream was savory, just the faintest hint of spice, but the toasted buckwheat was what really did it for me.  It was nutty, salty and downright wholesome tasting.  I really loved it.    

Soy Milk Panna Cotta

For the birthday boy, a soy milk panna cotta with matcha sauce, served with a candle of course.  The panna cotta was also rather savory, and had a great consistency, and sat atop a bed of red bean puree.  It seemed to combine the understated flavors of many Japanese desserts with the sensibility and style for which the French are known.

While the meal didn't come cheap, Rob and I both quite enjoyed ourselves at Brushstroke.  It doesn't have the hushed reverence of Momofuku Ko, or the cool sleekness of Brooklyn Fare, but it is a different experience altogether.  I could have done without the cocktail at the outset, particularly given the amount of booze that we consumed throughout our meal, and likely would have had we not been asked to wait 20 minutes for our seats at the counter to be ready. The meal was quite different from any I'd really had before, and that was what I was hoping for when I made the reservation.  I definitely never thought I'd consume so much chrysanthemum in one sitting, or at all.  None of the flavors at Brushstroke will hit you over the head or send smoke out of your ears, but you'll enjoy a thoughtful, beautiful and delicious progression of tastes, all of which are pretty damn great.

Brushstroke

30 Hudson Street (at Duane St.)

New York, NY 10013

(212) 964-3771

Valentine’s Day Dinner: Duck Breast with Red Wine Sauce and Cauliflower Two Ways

Lest you think I cooked my devoutly carnivorous boyfriend a mere salad for valentine's dinner, there was much more in store.  Admittedly, despite my affection for kale, a kale salad does not a valentine’s meal make. Though I'd told him a few times that I was planning on an entirely vegan valentine's feast (which he had, in fact, assured me he would devour without question), my plan was to cook something out of the ordinary. 

Yes, that is a little heart drawn in red wine sauce. Yes, I am a dork.

 I wracked my brain a couple of weeks ago, trying to remember the last time I cooked a piece of meat at home (bacon, soup and random meats cooked in the homes of others excepted).  From my recollection, it had been about four years.  Yes, seriously, four fucking years.  I am not a big meat eater - this we know - but this still shocked me.  Sure, I’ve cooked a few pieces of fish here and there, but even those were few and far between.  Valentine’s Day seemed as good a reason as any to test my meat-cooking chops again and see just how rusty I’d become.  This is not to say that, prior to the last four years, I’d been a huge meat eater / cooker – I never really have been, and my meat eating tends to be relegated to restaurants and the homes of family and friends.   Since this was a special meal, though, I decided to go big, and settled on duck breasts.  Duck, done well, is awesome – tender, juicy and so flavorful that any comparison to its poultry brethren is entirely misguided. 

So after our salads, I left Rob for a few moments with bread and room temperature Icelandic butter sprinkled with crunchy sea salt, and of course a glass of red, to keep him occupied for the few minutes it would take me to retreat to the kitchen to put the finishing touches on and plate our second course.  Everything was pretty much ready – the duck was removed from the fire just before I served the salad, so it was able to rest while we filled ourselves with roughage.  I had prepared the sauce and cauliflower puree earlier in the day, and had kept them over low heat during kale time, so those were the perfect temperature.  The only aspect I didn’t time quite well enough was the roasted cauliflower, which sadly got a bit cold – but it was delicious nonetheless.

Rob admitted as we were eating that he had been a bit skeptical when I told him I was making duck.  I don’t think he realized it’d been four years since I cooked a nice piece of meat, but he knew that it’d been a damn long time.  As we were eating, he admitted this to me, and said that he’d been worried for no reason.  I had to agree – the duck was really great – the skin was perfectly crisp, the meat soft and tender, and the simple flavorings spot-on.  The wine sauce was the perfect accent – leading with wine, deepened by the flavor of duck tenderloins; rich, yet light.  Since the red wine imbued a bit of sweetness to the plate, I paired the dish with cauliflower, which I find has a subtle, natural sweetness.  I also love having a range of textures on my plate, so I opted to treat the cauliflower two ways: pureed for velvety smoothness, and roasted for crunch.  The roasted cauliflower, which I took from Smitten Kitchen, was topped with pomegranate arils post-roasting, which provided for a tart-sweet-juicy pop; a bit of a surprise texture that also served to highlight the sweet notes in the cauliflower and tie it together with the sauce.  Once plated, I took a step back and felt pretty proud of myself.  It was a well-composed, pretty, thoughtful and frankly delicious plate of food.   And I didn't go bonkers in the process. 

Peppered Duck Breasts with Red Wine Sauce

From this New York Times recipe

Serves 2

My duck breasts were significantly smaller than those called for in the original recipe, so each serving was a full breast.  I couldn't finish nearly all of it, but Robbie cleaned his plate with no problems.   Though I thought the duck could have been taken from the heat a good 45 seconds earlier, Rob thought they were cooked perfectly. 

2 duck breasts, about 6 ounces each

Kosher Salt

1 tablespoon freshly crushed black peppercorns (I laid them out in a bowl so they wouldn't escape and used the bottom of a glass bottle to crush them)

2 garlic cloves, sliced

Thyme sprigs

1 tablespoons unsalted butter

1 small shallot, sliced thinly

1 1/2 teaspoons tomato paste ( I like to use the tomato paste in the tube so that you don't have to open up a whole can for just a little bit)

2 tablespoons plus 2 teaspoons medium-bodied red wine

1 cups unsalted chicken broth

1 1/5 teaspoons brandy

1 teaspoons potato or corn starch.

Remove the tenderloins, thin strips of meat on undersides of the duck breast, and reserve for the sauce. (NOTE: My duck breasts were already trimmed for the most part, but there were a couple of small strips of meat that came off with trimming the rest of the fat away, so I used those and a bit of the extra skin for this purpose. I mean, can you go wrong with extra duck skin? (FYI - No.).) With a sharp knife, trim away any gristle from the undersides and trim any excess fat from the edges of the breasts, preferably without slicing away the top four layers of skin on your thumb (cooking with a paper towel bandaged around your finger is inconvenient at best). With a VERY sharp knife, core the skin in a diamond-shaped pattern, without cutting to the meat. Lightly sprinkle salt on both sides, then rub 1 teaspoon crushed black peppercorns all over. Sprinkle with the garlic and a few thyme sprigs, cover, and leave at room temperature for an hour. (For deeper flavor, refrigerate for several hours or overnight, then return to room temperature to cook.)

Heat 1/2 tablespoon of the unsalted butter in a saucepan over medium heat. Add the shallot and the reserved duck tenderloins; let them brown well, stirring occasionally, 5 to 8 minutes. Stir in the tomato paste and a small thyme sprig and let them fry for a minute, then add 2 tablespoons of red wine and the chicken broth. Raise the heat to a brisk simmer and let the liquid reduce to a bit less than 3/4 cup, about 10 minutes. Strain the sauce and return to the heat. Add the remaining tablespoon red wine and the brandy and cook for 1 minute more. In a small bowl, dissolve potato or corn starch in a tablespoon of cold water, then stir into sauce. Whisk in the remaining 1/2 tablespoon butter. Taste and add salt as necessary. (Sauce may be made in advance and reheated, thinned with a little broth.)

Remove and discard the garlic and thyme sprigs from the breasts. Heat a large heavy-bottomed skillet over medium-high heat. When the pan is hot, lay in the duck breasts skin side down and let them sizzle. Lower the heat to medium and cook for a total of 7 minutes, checking to make sure the skin isn’t browning too quickly. With tongs, turn the breasts over and let them cook on the bottom side, 3 minutes for rare, 4 to 5 minutes for medium-rare. Transfer to a warm platter and let rest for 10 minutes. Slice crosswise, not too thickly, at a slight angle. Serve with the sauce.

 Cumin-Roasted Cauliflower with Pomegranate and Mint

 Serves 2 generously

 Adapted very slightly from this recipe over at Smitten Kitchen

I didn't really measure anything for this recipe.  I drizzled olive oil over the cauliflower just until it was evenly coated, then spilled out waht appeared to be a teaspoon of cumin seeds into my palm. I decided to forego the yogurt, since we had a creamy element on the plate already, and I felt the tanginess would overpower the other items on the plate.  This recipe, if you can really call it that, is such a keeper.  The cumin seeds elevate it from the ordinary, and the mint and pomegranate give an otherwise earthy dish a load of brightness and a little bit of spunk.

  

1 tablespoons olive oil

1 medium - large head cauliflower

1 teaspoon whole cumin seeds

1/2 teaspoon kosher salt, plus additional

1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

Chopped fresh mint

1/4 cup pomegranate arils

Preheat oven to 425°F.Lightly coat a baking sheet with olive oil or cooking spray.

Cut your cauliflower into bite-size florets and place on baking tray.  Drizzle over the olive oil and sprinkle with cumin seeds, salt and pepper.  Toss to coat evenly. Toss florets with remaining olive oil, cumin seeds, salt and pepper and spread out on prepared tray. Roast for 20 to 30 minutes, until the cauliflower is cooked through and well-browned. Keep a watchful eye towards those later minutes - the line between crispy and carcinogenic is sometimes a tough one to toe when you're doing a bunch of things at once in the kitchen.  

That said, I LOVE those near-black pieces. When the cauliflower is done to your liking, remove it from the heat and sprinkle with mint and pomegranate seeds.

Cauliflower Puree with Feta and Garlic

Serves about 4

Inspired by this recipe

This stuff is so good, you may never turn to mashed potatoes again.  May... 

Yes, I put this in a bowl just to get a picture of it and then put it immediately back into the pot. Again, dork.

1 head cauliflower, 2 to 2 1/2 pounds

1 1/2 cup chicken broth

2 tablespoons unsalted butter

1 teaspoon kosher salt

1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

1/4 cup crumbled feta cheese

2 cloves garlic, peeled and roughly chopped

Core the cauliflower and cut it into evenly-sized, about bite-sized, florets.  Pour the chicken broth into a steamer pot and add water so that you have about an inch of liquid.  Steam the cauliflower over the liquid until a paring knife inserted into the florets is met with little (but some) resistance, about 15 minutes.  Remove half the cauliflower from the steamer and place in your food processor of blender.  Transfer the cooking liquid (about a cup's worth) to a measuring cup, and pour about 1/2 of a cup of the liquid into the blender / processor.  Puree the cauliflower until it's smooth.  Add the rest of the cauliflower and the garlic to the blender.  Add a few more tablespoons of cooking liquid (just enough to allow the machine to process it) and puree until smooth.  Add more cooking liquid as needed, with the intent of adding as little of possible, as you don't want your puree to be watery.  Once smooth, add the butter, feta cheese, salt and pepper to the machine and process until combined.  Check for flavoring; you may wish to add more feta cheese, salt or pepper to suit your taste. 

I prepared my puree ahead of time, and let it sit over low heat.  This allowed for a bit of the excess liquid to evaporate, so we were left with a smooth, creamy, decadent-tasting puree that was really quite healthy (and really delicious).  

Note: If you're hesitant to plunk some raw garlic into your puree, you can place it in the pot with the cooking liquid while you steam the cauliflower.  This will imbue the cauliflower with a very faint garlic aroma, and will significantly take the edge off of the garlic before you puree it.   You can go halfsies too and keep one raw and one slightly leeched of flavor.