On Nothing Much
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Hôtel St. Germain
Grand Dining Room
Fahrenheit Restaurant
Ritz-Carlton Fronts Georgetown Incinerator
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An Introduction to Vietnamese Food I first met Quang Duong, a French-schooled chef and veteran of the kitchens of Alain Ducasse and Michel Richard, in the autumn of 1998. At the time, he was the Executive Chef at the historic Hôtel St. Germain in Dallas, Texas. The hotel's Grand Dining Room was then, and remains, one of that city's most elegant and inspiring places to dine. Tables there are set with Frette linens, antique silverware, vintage Limoges china, cut crystal, and lavender roses. These serve as the basic staging for exceptional meals. Birthday Ramadan I was at the St. Germain because my cousin Kathy had arranged a splendid eight-course wine-matched dinner for my friend Paul and me for my birthday. He and I were in town to see a Cowboys-Redskins game, the last event of a week-long celebration that started out with ten friends at Restaurant Nora, Nora Pouillon's eponymous organic eatery located in Washington, D.C. That week is now fondly but irreverently referred to as the original Birthday Ramadan, with many others having followed over the years. I still recall some of the dishes presented to us at the Hôtel St. Germain, especially the namesake English garden pea soup served in small tea cups as the first course. No spoon was offered or needed, as we sipped the soup Asian-style directly from the cup. Potage St. Germain was never so glorious. What followed that evening was a progression of lively courses centered on fish, fowl and hoof. At the end of the meal, we were happy and content, and wanted for nothing. It was memorable. Playing With Fire The other week, I had a reunion of sorts with Chef Quang at The Ritz-Carlton Hotel in Georgetown, where he runs Fahrenheit Restaurant. Fahrenheit's interior design emotionally channels Frank Lloyd Wright, but in an unexpected vertical rather than iconic horizontal direction. The restaurant's towering windows frame the smoke stack of the long-shuttered Georgetown Incinerator that stands between the Ritz and the Potomac waterfront and gives the restaurant its point of reference. The dining room is swaddled in dark wood, exposed bricks, and textiles in warm earth tones. Unlike the St. Germain, which delivers a gracious Old World ambiance, Fahrenheit strives for a sophisticated New World vibe. Back to Basics My friend Pat and I enjoyed a three-course dinner at Fahrenheit. The meal was simple, but brilliantly executed. It started with an arrow leaf spinach salad with poached pear, toasted walnuts, wedges of gorgonzola, and a drizzle of warm bacon vinaigrette. This is not an original salad, or a necessarily difficult one to prepare. But the well-dressed greens were spirited. I felt like fish that night, and my entrée was pan-seared sea bass with pumpkin risotto, lightly caramelized brussel sprouts, a port wine reduction, and pomegranate seeds. Nothing too difficult for an at-home foodie to prepare and plate, but the Fahrenheit version was unpretentiously perfect. Three Yummies For dessert we had a lemon trio, consisting of a lemon-vanilla cheesecake, a lemon crème brulée, and a lemon financier. The cheesecake was fine though forgettable, and the balanced tartness of the crème brulée was enjoyable. But the financier stole the show. To quote Countess Constance Trentham, actress Maggie Smith's terribly hilarious character in the film Gosford Park, the financier was "yummy, yummy, yummy." Financiers have been a staple of French pastry shops for well over a century, but have only recently made their way into American restaurants. They are simple almond cakes made with egg whites, sugar, and browned butter, and baked in small molds. When prepared well, the cakes are springy, moist, sweet and nutty with a slightly crisp exterior. The Fahrenheit financier was all of that, run through a lemon grove. A Goethe-Inspired Meritage To accompany dinner, our waitress suggested a 2005 Faust Cabernet Sauvignon produced by Chilean-born winemaker Agustin Huneeus at Huneeus Vintners in Napa Valley, California. Huneeus (previously at the Franciscan and Estancia wineries) is a firm believer in the French concept of terroir in which the place where grapes are grown (elevation, soil composition, seasonal rainfall, drainage, sun exposure, day-night temperature changes, humidity, coastal winds, etc.) is more important than the varietal in giving a wine its special character and personality. Faust Cabernet -- a blend of 79 percent cabernet sauvignon, 18 percent merlot, and 3 percent cabernet franc, all sourced from Rutherford Valley or the Tulocay viticultural area -- was 100 percent delicious. The wine was soft enough on the palette to go well with the fish, yet sufficiently structured and complex to hold up to the blue cheese. And there were enticing highlights of jammy berry throughout. Cook What You Know For years, I've pursued the new and interesting. Truth is, with the globalization of the food industry, it's becoming much harder to discover the different and unique. Lately, I'm happy just to find the best of what's come before, cooked with a confidence that it's good enough. That's what you'll find when your temperature is raised at Fahrenheit. Brian
Lam On Nothing Much is a periodic feature of this website that considers life about us. I wish to thank those of you who are reading these postings and sending me notes of encouragement, gentle criticism, or otherwise. |
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