Word of mouth, and great word at that, brought me to The Spread, a spanking new dining hot spot in Sono. Two months young, the restaurant is the result a partnership of four guys, all with two decades-worth of bar and restaurant experience combined, plus one young and very talented chef, Arik Bensimon. Formerly the Executive Chef of Napa & Co., Chef Arik brings the food in this rustic yet hip joint to a level of excellence and seriousness not seen in Fairfield County in some time. The Spread’s menu is global in scope. It represents a range of cultures--Arik’s Moroccan background and French training, the partners' of Costa Rica, Italy, and France with a dash of New York and California in the mix. Indeed, the menu is all over the place, locally sourced and international, but somehow this eclectic mishmash works. Though dishes are simply titled on the menu, they are, in fact, complex and beautifully executed.
As if on cue, the day I attended class at the Rhubarb Kitchen, a cooking school with an emphasis on all things British, the sun disappeared and the weather turned appropriately overcast and drizzly. A perfect backdrop for learning about the delights of the very English ritual of Afternoon Tea.
But first, a little about the women who run this show. Rebecca Binks (aka “Becs”) grew up in Kent and learned the highlights of English food from her grandmother, mom, and eight aunts. A former banker and world traveler who has lived in France and Spain, Becs landed in New York City where she met Lisa McMullan. Lisa, an Irishwoman, grew up surrounded by lush farmland and her culinary path is inspired by a true farm to table experience. Lisa practiced as an optometrist, but her love of food always lingered in the background.
The construction of Terrain along the Westport Post Road sprouted up faster than a weed; but unlike a weed, Terrain was a welcome sight--desirable and beautiful. I’m unsure who frequents this store, billed as “a shop for eco-friendly growing supplies, home and garden décor” with its $100. terrariums and $2,000. wire tables, but I have noticed a lot of people are eating here. Terrain’s restaurant, the Westport Garden Cafe, with the look of a modern barn in all its refined rusticity--reclaimed wood tables adorned with potted flowers, bulbs suspended from above, and floor to ceiling glass windows--is bright and airy, completely lovely. To match decor, the menu itself is farm-to-table, boasting support for local farms such as Sport Hill, Holbrook, Oakview, The Hickories and Warrups. Alabama chef, Joe Wolfson, Food & Wine’s 2011 People’s Best New Chef from the Gulf Coast, does justice to his ingredients.
It’s 8am on a Friday and we’re here to observe the inner workings at Isabelle et Vincent, aka The French Bakery in Fairfield. Eight a.m. is nowhere near the dark morning hours one would associate with a baker’s schedule, and yet there’s plenty going on even at this “late” hour. In one corner of the kitchen, a wide galley space behind the counter lined with ovens, a gigantic standing mixer, and speed racks of measured flour and finished pastries, strawberry tarts are being assembled. The scent of fresh berries, an enormous pile of ruby red, hit us before we even laid eyes on them. In fact, the entire space is a feast for the senses. Piles of baguettes, stacks of macarons in a rainbow of color, glistening apple tarts, fondant covered eclairs, and savory quiches...close your eyes and just imagine a symphony of freshly baked bread, butter, sugar, fruit, and chocolate. It’s incredible.
In the window of Edo there’s a New York Times review from 2004 that touts the virtues of Edo’s sushi, but that’s not the reason why we came. Sushi or Japanese food is not the reason to go to Edo. Sure, its name is Japanese, but we were there for the Korean fare. Like so many Asian restaurants in Fairfield County, Edo tries to squeeze multiple cultures into a single venue which isn’t always for the best, but go to Edo for the Korean dishes. You'll be happy you did.
I’d been lamenting the lack of good Chinese food in Fairfield County, a complaint I’ve shared with quite a few food lovers here, including a friend who’s a Westport transplant from Singapore. To stop my whining, said friend took me to her family’s favorite Chinese restaurant in Fairfield, Hunan Pavilion. Ever since, I haven’t been deprived of good Chinese nearby, and now neither will you.
Hunan Pavilion has been in the same Post Road location in Fairfield for 22 years and it’s very good. But to insure a truly exceptional experience, skip over the conventional menu and jump right to the Shanghai Bund Select (or Shanghai New Menu), an edited list of house specialties and an eclectic mix of Shanghai, Szechuan, and Hunan cuisines. Also ask for the menu in Chinese, even if you don’t speak a word of any dialect. The Chinese menu isn’t overly extensive, and if you aren’t shy about it, the staff will patiently translate, and this is where the hidden treasures can be found.
Cauliflower is a tough sell at my house. My husband is a reluctant vegetable eater at the best of times, and I’ve tried to get my boys to try it under clever marketing names like “brain vegetable.” But alas, little success. As a risotto pusher, however, I’ve been victorious. If its on a menu, hubby will always order it, and if I cook it for dinner (which admittedly isn’t often), it will vanish. So I thought, Why not combine the two and see what happens?
Lovely, almost petite heads of cauliflower abound in the greenmarket now, so buying it is an easy temptation. Once home, I separated the cauliflower into florets and roasted them--and if you don’t know my stance on roasting, I strongly advocate it for bringing out the best in vegetables. The cauliflower caramelizes in a hot oven, with yummy, toasty browned edges. Folded into a creamy risotto, it’s one of the best vehicles imaginable for cauliflower, and over at my house, one way it will always get eaten.
As we creep into November, the look of the greenmarket changes. More gourds, potatoes, and with the exception of collards and kale, less greens. I’m ready for a seasonal change but part of me is still holding onto warmer months past and long to see some leafy goodness. This week at the Imperial Avenue market I spotted some gorgeous rainbow swiss chard. Now chard and I have a history, one in which I could never imagine a future promoting it. Growing up in suburban New York, my parents maintained a good sized garden where swiss chard thrived; in fact, took over. Mom and dad couldn’t give it away fast enough, and the stuff that remained made its way to our dinner table just about every night. Later in life I renewed my relationship with chard. At Gourmet, our Executive Food Editor couldn’t stand the stuff, but to her credit, she was open minded enough to know that other people enjoyed it--or at least should eat it, and because I had more than a passing familiarity with it, chard crept into a few recipes I developed at the magazine.
As a recent Westport transplant from New York City, one thing I find myself pining for from my former life is good sushi. A recent visit to ShikiHana in Fairfield has changed all that. Located in a strip mall in Fairfield, ShikiHana has the nondescript atmosphere of countless Japanese restaurants, but the surprise is in the food: some of the freshest, well prepared sushi I’ve had in a while.
Quite honestly, I never met a roasted vegetable I didn’t like. I roast it all: carrots (the only way to eat them besides raw), onions, okra, even broccoli. So now we’ve come to squash. I don’t know why I’m initially reluctant to prepare it, especially this time of year when it’s everywhere and the varieties are endless. Squash is like a misunderstood pitbull, tough on the outside, but sweet and tender on the inside. It can be daunting to approach at first, but really it’s no big deal. I’ve been drawn to acorn squash this season. The flesh has a pleasant vegetal quality that’s a breeze to prepare and it’s equally delicious with fish, meat, and poultry. Sliced into crescent moons, tossed with butter, olive oil and chile flakes, it gets a drizzle of maple syrup towards the end which caramelizes the squash ever so slightly. A combo of sweet and sassy. The skin is tough and inedible (remember, it’s still part pitbull), but eaten with knife and fork, it’s Autumn on a Plate.
A recent Westport transplant from NYC, Melissa Roberts was a food editor for Gourmet for almost 9 years, where she toiled happily in the test kitchen developing and writing recipes for the magazine. She was also a cook and stylist in the Food Network's kitchen.
Last Thursday’s Imperial Avenue Greenmarket in Westport fell on one of those perfect crisp and clear Fall days. The Greenmarket’s atmosphere was buzzing, complete with live music commemorating its 6th birthday. I joined in the celebration by treating myself to a Breakfast Pizza (pecorino, local bacon, fried egg) from Skinny Pines Pizza with Raus’ cold Roman Coffee to wash it all down. But my mission was not only to treat my belly, but to find inspiration amidst the produce, and it was there in spades beginning with a pile of deep green lacinato kale from Riverbank Farms in Roxbury, CT. Often with the freshest veggies the best way to treat them is the simplest. In this recipe, kale is shredded then tossed with a straightforward dressing of lemon and olive oil which brightens its earthy, mineral-like flavor, and a generous shower of nutty Parmigiano Reggiano.
