Summer has clung on with tenacity in New England this year. It was warm enough this weekend to have dinner outside without even a sweater. Though it’s certainly (and reassuringly) getting cooler.
All of which is to say, it’s been a balancing act. I still haven’t done a ragù to try out the fancy Sporkful pasta. The weather hasn’t felt bracing enough for something so rich and warming. But I have begun to dabble: I managed to get my hands on delicatta squash to roast, and to get back into soups with a pasta e fagioli and the last of my Rancho Gordo beans. On one of the colder evenings, I did a white wine chicken braise. I could tell I was a bit out of practice: it needed more time braising, and was a bit tough. My seafood risotto — light enough to feel like a fall dish, but with that creamy, starchy denseness from the stirred rice — was more successful.
My more ambitious projects didn’t happen. I didn’t get around to trying my hand at Poilâne-style apple tarts. Nor did I bend my “no new stuff rule” to get a copy of the new Ottolenghi cookbook. On reflection I wish I’d spent a bit more time being a bit more adventurous.
My levain is in much better shape. The bread still isn’t quite in top form, but I did a few batches that I was more than pleased with. It was also the first excuse that I had to try out my new camera. Given I hadn’t bought a new one for about a decade, it’s maybe not that shocking it’s a lot better than my old D90.
More excitingly, I made it out to the West Coast again for a few days, first in the Bay Area, and then a very brief stop in Seattle.
I tried what must be the fanciest vegan restaurant in San Francisco. They didn’t wear the no-animal-products conceit on their sleeve, and I think they get away with it. It’s an Italian restaurant first, and vegan restaurant almost incidentally. Though it must be said there was a slight whiff of abstemiousness. My negroni was excellent and as potent as it should’ve been. My simulated pasta alle vongole lacked a certain richness and unctuousness, something less forgivable as clams (not, say, butter) are the only ingredient in the original that would be disallowed by their conceit.
Sadly, I wasn’t able to return to any real favorites, like Octavia. But I did make it to a few nice places. There were a few restaurants in Oakland that I definitely enjoyed. One was exactly the sort of neighborhood place that I wish I had around the block from me. My favorite by far (I was too greedily eating to get a photo) was a dish of seared scallops over an herb-y and verdant bed of polenta. Maybe with some brown butter on top. It was great. Another was a more Chicago-style pizza place where I tried a delicious but very dense white pizza with ricotta rather than tomato sauce.
In the city, North Beach — San Francisco’s answer to Little Italy or the North End — happened to be close to where I was staying, so there was really a lot of Italian food. I’d highly recommend The Italian Homemade company. It definitely doesn’t have the fanciest dining room, but the prices are very reasonable and the pasta is fantastic. It must be said, the croissants I got at the various cafés in the area didn’t impress me. But I did stumble upon a fantastic pizza place that did probably the best Neapolitan-style pizza that I’ve had in the last two years.
Up north in Seattle, I didn’t really have enough time to explore. I made it back to one of the better French bakeries, and a friend got some very above-average Afghani food.
Looking ahead to next month, I have another trip planned that may offer interesting food potential. Most of the details are out of my control, so how interesting remains to be seen. The odds of me making it abroad this year are diminishing, sadly. I’m hoping to visit Spain for the first time next year unless something else goes horribly wrong.
Closer to home, the weather can’t possibly stay this estival for the next month, and so I feel like I will finally be confident enough to take out my air conditioning and really getting into fall food. Staring with the elusive ragù to try out the Sporkful pasta at long last. It just doesn’t feel right to eat that with anything other than a very rich, chunky sauce. The ingredients are already on my shopping list for the week to come: it really, truly, actually, seriously will happen this time.
I see no reason not to dabble more in pâtisserie with those apple tarts and another few runs at croissants as I continue to perfect that process. Croissants really need a cold kitchen to work well. My air conditioning isn’t that powerful, and honestly it feels ridiculous cooling that much in the summer anyway. Keeping on the apple theme, this recipe combining a French dessert with miso looks worth trying if I’m not overloaded on sweets.
Again riffing on the weather, I feel like there’s an opportunity for something dense and baked. I can’t bring myself to do lasagne with a ragù after doing it with the other pasta. I’ll also confess to not loving veggie lasange with zucchini. Perhaps something with mushrooms. Or perhaps going in a completely different direction and doing something like a lentil shepherd’s pie.
Beyond that, I honestly lack a bit of inspiration. There are of course fall favorites to lean on, like salmon with lentils, the extremely obvious roast chicken, or another venture into soups. There will inevitably be another braise of some description, probably involving the better part of a bottle of wine.