Review: Amada in Old City, Philadelphia

I know Spanish food. To meet my heightened standards, a restaurant touting Spanish fare has to do one thing absolutely perfectly – seafood. It is the cornerstone of the Spanish table. If you don’t like seafood, don’t go to Spain. If you can’t make seafood well, don’t open a Spanish restaurant.

The benchmark of Spanish restaurants in the United States are those owned by PBS phenom and master chef José Andrés. His Jaleo, in Washington D.C., is my favorite. Andrés hails from Asturias, a compelling seaside region on the northern coast known for some rich gastronomic traditions including an amazing white bean stew known as fabada. But in my experience Andrés' restaurants seem to make every Spanish dish perfectly.

I had high expectations that Amada in Philadelphia would do the same. The chef is not Spanish – he’s from Ecuador. That’s usually a red flag for me, but a look at his numerous accolades (He's an "Iron Chef") and a glance at the inventive menu online persuaded me to give it a whirl. The place has some excellent dishes that take traditional Spanish and spin them with a new twist. The empanadas filled with spinach and manchego were excellent. A jamón serrano salad with spinach, figs, spiced almonds, and cabrales cheese came out as a meaty log, the greens literally stuffed inside a shell made from thin slices of this delectable Spanish "prosciutto." The jamón , however, did not have the same taste and texture that you usually get with this Spanish ham… I suspect a domestic imposter may have been used instead of an imported. 

Amada's croquetas de jamón, traditional deep fried croquettes filled with ham-scented béchamel sauce, were equally inventive. Much smaller in size that those you normally get in Spain, these came served on dollops of a roasted vegetable and almond sauce called romesco. Tasty, indeed, but the consistency of the romesco was too grainy. A more thorough job pulsing the nuts into a fine paste was definitely in order. But overall the small plates were inventive and totally worthwhile.

A complimentary tuna spread served on toasted bread was tasty and the restaurant, which sports two bars off the seating area, offers three types of sangria. We tried the blanco and tinto. Both excellent.

But the seafood dishes were nowhere near my standards. There’s quite an extensive list of items that you can get a la plancha or "on the grill." Baby squid, or chiperones, had a fishiness that one wouldn’t encounter had they been recently removed from the sea. One of my all time favorite Spanish dishes, pulpo a la gallego, was equally unsatisfying. Cooked in a deep fryer, the delicate ends of the tentacles were burned to a crisp, leaving a charred, bitter taste in the mouth. Further, some of the pieces were perfectly cooked while others had the distinct rubbery consistency characteristic of overcooking. 

In the end, a return trip to Amada would be worthwhile only to try more of the non-seafood items. But a Spanish restaurant that can't do seafood well is really not a Spanish restaurant at all.

Pie Hole Rating: 2 of 5 stars

Review: The Crystal Room at Bedford Springs

You know what they say about hotel food. In general, I don't go there. But when you are dropping 300 bones a night at an Omni, you'd think that normal prejudices might not apply.

Not at Bedford Springs.

After years of talking about it, K and I finally decided to make it down to this magnificent hotel that takes its name from the seven southwestern Pennsylvania mineral springs that have long been viewed as a panacea for an array of medical ills. The hotel, in various forms, has been around since the mid-1800s. President James Buchanan stayed there as president on the eve of the Civil War. It grew immensely popular in the Victorian times when wealthy, big name capitalists and their fams came to escape the congestion of urban America. And by the mid-1900s, it was a getaway for middle class mid-western Americans including K's grandparents. Needless to say, a place this steeped in history and genealogy has long been on our "must visit" list. We finally made it.

Bedford Springs is pretty awesome. It's got one of the oldest indoor pools in the country and to this day is fed by nearby mineral springs. The renovation work in the 2000s spared no expense and the place, though practically rebuilt, has the air of the Gilded Age. Historical photographs and artifacts contribute to the overall ambiance of local history. A spa, outdoor pool, mountain hiking trails (sweet!), golf (who cares?), and the pretty cool nearby town of Bedford with intact business district round out the array of things to do.

The only downside to an otherwise stupendous trip was our dinner at the Crystal Room. As part of our package, we were promised a three-course meal. Unfortunately, however, we were given no advance indication that the three-courses actually meant a self-serve buffet. I shy away from the all-you-can-eat phenomenon. I just don't get it. It's unhealthy. It's a haven for germs. It takes away the excitement of reviewing a menu and ordering. And, most importantly, it's just not something that one does in the Mediterranean. I still can't comprehend how Omni equates a three-course meal and buffet. It confounds me.

Our server recorded my reaction to these events and quickly offered that our second course could be chosen from the menu. We thankfully obliged but were relegated to the buffet for our first course (salad) and third course (dessert bar). The menu offerings, though better than buffet fare, turned out so-so. I had what the menu called "Pecan Crusted Laurel Hills Farm Trout with brandied baby carrots, wild rice cake, Lancaster bacon-balsamic butter," but no bacon balsamic butter was to be found. K had "Brined Pork Chop with cipollini, candied apple risotto, garlic spinach, cider demi-glace" but the risotto mysteriously appeared as pureed sweet potatoes.


Sadly, the Crystal Room was pretty much a total bust... But I have to say that I kind of saw it coming. On the grounds of the hotel was a sorry collection of thirsty, wilting beds sporting a sign "chef's garden." I don't think so.

Pie Hole Rating: 1 of 5 stars

On Quiche, Julia Child, and the Chesire Cat

After recently reading My Life in France and watching the film Julie and Julia, I realized that I don't own a copy of Mastering the Art of French Cooking by Julia Child, Louisette Bertholle, and Simone Beck. So I recently took it out of the library and read it from cover to cover.

Now I'm glad that I don't own a copy of Mastering the Art of French Cooking.

Don't get me wrong, I love Julia Child. I've seen all the episodes of The French Chef that one can get on DVD and online. She was knowledgeable, personable, and totally real on camera. Her story is awe inspiring. And sure, she convinced a lot of WASPy housewives to think differently about food at a time when ease and haste in the kitchen were paramount. That's pretty tremendous. But I personally don't want cream sauce on my fish or my mushrooms sauteed in a stick of butter. Or, for that matter, everything else slathered with a combination of the two. It's just not my bag.

Nonetheless, when recently charged with feeding my little cousin with something that she could help to make, I decided to thumb through Mastering in search of a recipe. She's a vegetarian, which eliminated a lot of Julia's favorites, and I settled on perhaps the most uninteresting thing in the entire tome - quiche. But Mastering really just provided the idea. I pretty well rendered it unrecognizable from its true French form. That's fine. I'm not a huge quiche person - I'll take an Italian frittata or Spanish tortilla any day. But these turned out well enough.


Broccoli/Cheddar and Spinach/Gruyere Quiche

-Preheat oven to 350 degrees F
-Make two 9-inch pie crusts using your favorite recipe (If you buy these frozen, which I admittedly did, follow Michael Pollan's rule about ingredients. A lot of the frozen ones are scary long in the ingredient department.)
-1-2 crowns of broccoli, stems removed, cut down into small florets
-Steam broccoli florets for five minutes; do not overcook
-1 bag or bunch baby spinach, washed
-Sautee 1 minced shallot in 1/2 tbsp; add baby spinach and cook until wilted, 5 minutes
-Drain spinach by pressing it against a colander to remove all moisture
-Shred 4 ounces of gruyere and 4 ounces of a good quality Wisconsin sharp cheddar
-Beat 4 large eggs in a bowl, add 1/2 cup milk or soymilk, and combine with broccoli and shredded cheddar
-Beat 4 large eggs in a bowl, add 1/2 cup milk or soymilk (plain) and combine with spinach and shredded gruyere.
-Pour filling mixtures into two pie crusts
-Bake for 30 minutes or until a knife inserted into the quiche comes clean

Even though my first impression of Mastering was kind of a bust, I expect that I will indeed attempt one or two of Julia's recipes in the future. After all, someone whose kitchen is in the collection of the Smithsonian deserves a second glance.

Oh, and the melon wearing a chesire cat hat? Not suprisingly, the touch of a ten-year-old kitchen helper who for some reason wishes to see her new favorite piece of apparel on the internet.

Smoked Sockeye Salmon; Goat Cheese, Green Onion, and Thyme Tart; Strawberry Granita

When late spring makes its changeover into summer, I always make a point to leaf through Steven Raichlen's The Barbeque Bible. In my estimation, Raichlen is the very best when it comes to cooking on the grill. Why? Mainly because he doesn't incessantly rehash the same old tired American barbeque traditions like ribs and burgers and chicken wings. Instead, he takes you on a voyage of bountiful barbeque exploration around the world and documents the unique recipes that regions ranging from South America to Southeast Asia to the Mediterranean hold dear.

That's what I'm talking about.

Admittedly, however, I am still a barbeque neophyte. Our grill is a dented, dusty, rusty mid-sized Weber Kettle Grill that K pulled out of the dilapidated garage of her old apartment and salvaged as a memento of 10+ years living in the tree tops of Squirrel Hill. Sometimes you have to hit the grill's vent lever with a hammer to get it to open. Other times, one of the legs slips out of its socket and you have to prop the darn thing up on a garden stone to keep it from spilling its coals. But if it ain't broke - or in this case ain't completely broke - don't fix it. It reminds me of an old Amish draft horse that, though lumbering and half-blind, still gets the job done. Plus, I like its history.

The grill has been out twice this year. And when the grill comes out in June, it's usually because sockeye salmon is in season. Although there is some debate, sockeye is generally considered a sustainable fish that gets positive marks from the Monterey Bay Aquarium's Seafood Watch. Ours came from Alaska, via Whole Foods, which carries them for just a few short months.

The indirect heat, hot smoke method as spelled out by Steven Raichlen seems perfect for sockeye. Start your fire using natural all-wood charcoal and a chimney starter. When the coals are ready (20 minutes) pour them out into one side of the kettle grill. I use a piece of rolled up aluminum foil to form a barrier. Then drop mesquite wood chips that have been soaked in water for 20 minutes directly on top of the coals. Insert the grilling grate and oil lightly using a paper towl clenched in tongs. The salmon is then placed on the side of the grill NOT above the coals. Close the lid making sure the top vents are open and positioned above the fish. This will ensure that the smoke flows over the fish as it exits the vents. Keep the bottom vents open half way. The hot smoke indirect method generally takes 20-25 minutes for a 1 pound piece of fish... a little longer if you like the thin edges to become crispy fish candy.

The salmon keeps well and can be used in an array of other applications. I like to have some leftovers for the following morning to put on top a toasted onion bagel with cream cheese, chopped red onion, and capers, and drizzled with olive oil and cracked black pepper.


The flavor of smoked wild salmon is such that you don't need a sauce. But I chopped up some chives and mixed them with some creme fraiche just for good measure. On the side, we had a goat cheese, green onion and thyme tart that came from the Williams Sonoma Spring cookbook authored by Joanne Weir. I have had this book in my cookbook collection for years, but until this weekend had no idea that Weir was the author. K made the crust. She's got great baking skills, but her attention and/or obsession of late is with fiber arts... For now, clothes on our backs come at the expense of tasty treats in our stomachs.

As a finishing touch, I made a quick strawberry granita from some very small, super-sweet berries from the farmer's market. I just pureed them in the blender and added a touch of sugar, then poured them out into a large, edged cookie sheet and placed it in freezer. The rest is easy. Let it set for about 45 minutes, then use a wooden spatula to break up the ice crystals as they form. Put back in freezer and continue doing this every 30 minutes, making sure that no large ice clumps form and you have only fine crystals. Then serve with a few whole berries and a spring of mint.

Three Mushroom Risotto

Last weekend was one of poor decisions. The first was the choice to go to the Monroeville Mall. Seems the only place you can get a watch battery changed is way out in suburbia. We never, ever, go to malls. The only reason I tagged along was that George Romero used this particular one as the setting of his cult classic, Dawn of the Dead. Cool. Bad decision number two was when K had a momentary lapse in her meticulous health-conscious ways and bought a sour apple gum ball from a germ-ridden kids candy machine. She went down with the strep for the week.

After a week of uninteresting and bland fare – including my admittedly failed attempt at chicken soup (seriously, how the &%$@ do you make a decent chicken soup?) – I figured I would help ease her transition back into culinary normalcy with one of her favorites…. Il risotto.

Like bruschetta, risotto represents one of those techniques that the fan of Mediterranean food simply must add to his or her repertoire. Once you get it down, no recipes are needed and the possibilities are endless. There is the simple, like the classic saffron-scented Risotto alla Milanese. Or the complex, like Jamie Oliver’s 10,000-step roasted butternut squash risotto with chestnuts and pancetta from Jamie's Kitchen. Both are awesome. This time, I went with mushroom. Since it’s already June, I figured that we’d also have our last asparagus of the season.

Three Mushroom Risotto with Pan-roasted Asparagus and Mascarpone

• Handful fresh crimini mushrooms, sliced
• Handful shitake mushrooms, sliced
• ¼ cup dried porcini mushrooms
• ½ medium onion, minced fine
• ¼ cup cry white wine (I keep a 10 dollar bottle of Italian pinot grigio on hand for cooking – don’t use cooking wine or really cheap white. The priniciple alone)
• 2 tbsp butter or olive oil (I usually use just a small dollop of butter and the rest olive oil)
• 1 cup Arborio risotto rice
• 5 cups homemade chicken stock (again, I used Lynne Rossetto Kasper's)
  
• ½ cup grated parmigiano reggiano cheese
• salt and pepper
• 1 bunch asparagus
• 1/4 cup mascarpone cheese
  

Pour boiling water over dried mushrooms. Steep for 10 minutes to reconstitute. Strain and reserve water. Sautee sliced fresh mushrooms until cooked. Warm butter/olive oil over medium heat, add minced onion and gently sautee onion until soft. Add rice and cook for one minute making sure rice gets toasted and covered in oil. Add white wine and cook for two minutes. Ladle 2 cups of broth over risotto and stir, consistently, until liquid is absorbed. Continue adding broth ½ cup at a time and stirring constantly, adding more only when the pan runs dry. Continue for approximately 20 minutes until all broth is used. Add dried porcini and continue stirring at the 15 minute mark. After 20 minutes, check rice for al dente. When rice is ready, add grated cheese and most of the sliced mushrooms. Serve with reserved mushrooms on top and shaved parmigiano cheese and small dollop of mascarpone cheese. Pan roasted asparagus on the side.

I had some leftover mascarpone and figured I’d use it for a quick dessert. Fresh raspberries (California) surround a dollop of mascarpone, drizzled with the last of some eucalyptus honey that we brought back from Pamplona. Just spoon it into a bowl and microwave for 5 seconds to get the honey into a liquid state.