Long Live Ragoût

My aunt Claire recently passed, and with her went the best ragoût in New England. Or at least Rhode Island, but definitely Manville.

While the US may be more familiar with its Italian cousin (think Ragu), a French-Canadian ragoût will put hair on your chest, or at least some pounds around your middle. A Parisian ragoût, or stew, to put it simply, might contain vegetables like mushrooms and can pick and choose the meats that might be involved. But in northern Rhode Island, it means only one thing—slow cooked pork meatballs with a brown gravy laced with shredded turkey and heavy with chunks of large, boiled potatoes. Its a closer kin to Swedish meatballs than any pasta sauce or delicate Parisian stew.

Aunt Claire would brown the flour for the gravy in the oven, even well into her 80s. She’d make it probably once a year, usually around or after the New Year. She’d made pounds and pounds of potatoes. She’d roast a turkey and shred the meat. The whole family would get together and take turns sitting at the table for a hearty bowl with a side of warm French bread topped with a healthy amount of butter. Most people would also go home with Tupperware leftovers that we’d freeze for another day or eat the following day, hungry again for the thick, rich gravy and moist meatballs.

She’d make a lot of ragoût. I mean a lot. She was the oldest of 10 children and never had any herself, but her sisters and brothers more than made up for that—one of them had 10 kids of her own. All in all, there were probably 8 siblings with their spouses and children that would show up at that table for a helping. That’s easily a consistent group of 30-40 people (sometimes more, sometimes less) that would look forward to ragoût every season. And if you couldn’t make it one year, you’d probably have a Tupperware set aside with your name on it.

I will miss Aunt Claire, and not just because of her cooking. Still, many of my memories are tied to food with her. On New Year’s Day, when we would visit, she’d have made liver pate… a mound of liverwurst topped with a layer of cream cheese and slices of green olives that you’d scoop up on a cracker. Or homemade peanut butter Ritz sandwiches dipped in chocolate. Or Oreo-cookie “truffle” balls. Or dinner roll sandwiches of chicken or ham salad. Whenever we’d visit, she’d try to feed us. It was difficult to sit without a plate in your face or leave without a doggie bag.

Food was her way to show that she cared. That was easy to see. And if you can measure it, then she loved us all a lot. We all love you as well, Aunt Claire. Rest in peace. I hope the food wherever you are is half as good as the food you prepared for your family.

Faial Restaurant, Smithfield

I guess I’m just bad with gift certificates. Don’t get me wrong, I love eating for cheap (or free!) but it seems to take me awhile to get to a place if I haven’t been before and know that I will like it. I think we had gift certificate’s for Faial’s for at least six months, maybe nine, before we tried it the other night.

A few years ago, too, I had been there for a Mother’s Day brunch with about a dozen of us, but I don’t remember much of the experience. Since I didn’t remember much about the menu, I looked online. Faial’s is a mix of Portuguese favorites, but the menu consists mainly of various seafood and pasta options, with some cuts of beef as well. The food is mostly Mediterranean in style, meaning it has Spanish, Portuguese and Italian influences. The restaurant’s name comes from the island of Faial in the Azores, and is not, such as I thought, someone’s last name.

The other prelude I had that set my expectations a bit was the fact that the gift certificates came from my 80-some odd year old aunt. This told me that the restaurant might just be the family friendly type of place that it turned out to be. The decor, once we arrived, was described by my wife as “mid-range hotel”. I don’t think she meant this in a terribly bad way. Simply, that while the name and prices may suggest a high-end affair, the location (Smithfield) and the decor indicated that it was a down-home kind of place, without pretension. Sure, there wasn’t style or panache, either… but we weren’t there for that.

The bread for the meal comes up with a warm ramekin of their signature red sauce (available for carry out in jars). Faial sauce – widespread throughout the menu – is not really describes anywhere on the menu, so I’ll do my best to get it’s ingredients right: a tomato-base with butter, garlic, paprika, wine? and spices. Unstirred, the top layer of the sauce is oily with butter, while the bottom was thick and chunky with garlic. It was also surprisingly spicy – surprising mostly when I think of my family enjoying it, a group not known for a love of spicy food.

The plates being passed around us looked large, so we opted to go right for an entree. My wife got the Paehla ($26), which is usually a bouillabaisse of seafood and rice. In this case, though, it was a 1/2 lobster, shrimp, scallops, mussels & littlenecks, served over our seafood rice, topped with  Faial sauce. It was huge, and it looked really, really good. It seems to be a favorite, too, as we started to notice many other people at other tables with this giant dish in front of them.

Carne de Porco

I got the Carne de Porco Alendejana since I felt like I should get something Portuguese at a Portuguese restaurant. The dish was meatier than I anticipated, but I should have known, as Portuguese main dishes are usually very meaty. This was slow stewed pork pieces with littlenecks and roasted potatoes drenched in a thinned-out Faial sauce ($18). The meat was very tender and basically broke apart with the fork. The sauce was a great compliment to all the elements on the plate. I think I tackled maybe about a third of what was on the plate, and had plenty to take home. (It was great over rice the next day.)

Since we had just gorged ourselves but tried to exercise some version of restraint, we treated ourselves to coffee (decaf for her, espresso for me) and a flan dessert. The coffee was good, but the flan was, well, it had dollops of canned whip cream and rainbow sprinkles. It was strange… flan should not come with sprinkles in my mind, but maybe I was being uncultured and close-minded. Flan doesn’t always mean elegant, I know – there are flan-flavored jello puddings, after all, and it really just means caramel custard – but I felt like in this setting it should have been treated with a little more respect.

The very strange flan

The service was pretty solid, I have to say. You get the impression that the staff see quite a few families and parties large and small come through there on any given night. When we had tried to go on a Saturday, the place was already booked up with reservations. The only thing that annoyed me was that my empty beer bottle seemed to linger on the table after all the dishes had been cleared and we were enjoying coffee and dessert. I know, it’s such a small thing…  I guess if that’s all I have to complain about, than it was really almost nothing.

Overall, a thumbs up. I can’t say I will be “in the mood” for Faial very often, but if we think about it, we’ll go back and try something else off their very extensive menu.

La Laiterie, Providence

For almost a year now, Beth and I have had a gift certificate – a wedding present – to La Laiterie. Many of our friends have been and love it, but for whatever reason we just haven’t gotten around to going. Nothing against the place of course… we both love things artisanal, and both love cheese and all things dairy. So Saturday, after a long week and a long day, we decided to treat ourselves courtesy of someone else. Thanks Rachel and Billy!

Now I don’t want to start things off on the wrong foot, but I do have to say… when we arrived, the greeter told us that they had seats at the bar, but it was a 45 minute wait for a table. On the website, they say reservations only for parties of six or more. We gladly sat at the bar, but could’t help but notice an empty table for two that remained empty until we received our second course. Hmmm…

The wife is pregnant, but I couldn’t help but try a cocktail on the menu, and luckily she is not interested in limiting my obsessions, so I ordered their Sazerac. She dabbled in bartending herself, and makes one hell of any number of drinks, and was the one who originally got me interested in this classic cocktail. Rye whiskey is accompanied by Peychaud’s bitters, a little sugar water or cube, and a hint of Absinthe substitute – in this case, Pernod. The cocktail originated in New Orleans, and is said to be one of – or the, depending who you ask – oldest mixed drinks. The bartender made a very nice, smooth version of the drink with Old Overholt rye, an inexpensive bottle (around $15) that lacks the acidic bite that most other cheap whiskies have. Served with a lemon twist, the drink was delicious and put me in the mood for some great food. I only wish the glass was chilled.

La Laiterie specializes in rich, rich food. I sort of knew this, but I was soon to find out how rich and decadent they can be. Luckily, we made the wonderful decision to order small plates instead of an entré. We were craving variety, and I took this chance to be adventurous in our selections.

Le Jardin salad

She started with the Le Jardin salad of young vegetables and fruits. Apple slices, watermelon radish (again, the wonderfully colorful radish makes an appearance), herbs and roasted pecans tossed in a light vinaigrette. Beth loved the lightness of it all, and the ingredients were fresh and flavorful.

Baby brussel sprouts with mini chips with beef tongue in the background

I started with a small plate of beef tongue and beer-braised onions atop a crusty slice of italian toast ($3). The onions were soft and sweet with a great caramelized finish, and the beef tongue was surprising. I never had it before, and didn’t know what to expect. What I got were thin slices, three or four, of the meat that must have been skillet fried. The meat puffed up, so it was light and had the aroma and texture of Canadian bacon. I concluded that this must be beef’s answer to bacon, and told myself if the opportunity presented itself again, to make sure to give it another try.

I also had a small oblong bowl of roasted baby brussel sprouts ($4) served with fingerling potato chips with a pepper aioli. The rich earthy flavor of the brussel sprout here was made milder by their baby size. The little chips were cute and had a nice texture and mouth feel. I’ve been a convert to brussel sprouts lately… they have a strong flavor, but they are one of the best roasted or pan fried vegetables I’ve had.

Cheesemonger's mac and cheese

Nothing prepared us for what would be our main courses, though, except maybe the aroma of cheese that wafted by whenever a server brought someone what Beth was going to have – their artisanal mac and cheese ($10). Oven-baked in a single serving casserole dish, the cheese perfection had a crusty top but a gooey center. Penne were coated in what I can only assume was four or five different kinds of cheese. Oh my god it was a comforting bowl of heaven – certainly worth indulging in again and again.

Chicken livers and onion rings with house bacon and pan jus

My dish was another adventurous one for me – their seared Vermont chicken livers in a bacon pan au jus served with onion rings ($11). Holy hell. Again, I was a chicken liver virgin. While the beef tongue was surprising light, due no doubt to its delicate preparation, the livers were heavy and came in a serving size that forgot what it meant to be a small plate. Easily a meal in itself, the livers were so good that I had to finish them all. You heard me, the livers were so good I could not stop eating them. I never thought I’d say that.

The onion rings were massive as well, and deliciously greasy and fried with a beer-battered crust. They didn’t slice an onion, they chopped half a large vidalia into three huge chunky rings, breaded them, and deep fried them to a nice golden brown. When dipped in the au jus they were just oozing flavor.

The consistency of the livers surprised me, much as the beef tongue did. Soft, yielding to the fork, but rich like a dense cut of beef. Maybe not all livers taste like this – I’ve heard that beef liver tastes minerally – but these actually tasted more like beef than anything that came from a chicken. A dense, meaty flavor, and cooked well enough that I didn’t notice any inconsistency in the texture or any rubberyness, either.

After all this rich, delectable food, you’d think we’d throw in the towel, but no, we plowed ahead and surveyed their dessert menu.  It’s a shame they don’t list it on their website, as there were many choices we didn’t make that are worth mentioning. What we got was – if I remember correctly – a banana hazelnut torte with home made chocolate ice cream. Divine.

My rating… thumbs way up. Such a delicious delight of a meal… small portions, well-thought out flavors and pairings, and most of all, an over-the-top decadent richness to everything we tried. We will definitely go back to try more.

Valentine’s Day Dinner at Julian’s

Every year, my wife and I try to get out an take advantage of the prix-fixe Valentine’s dinners available in Providence. Years ago, it seemed like only a handful of places did them, and now quite a few more restaurants offer the option. In years past we did Nick’s (when they were in their tiny storefront), Lois Fuller’s, Pot Au Feu, and the Red Fez. Now it was time to try Julian’s.

Julian’s is a restaurant that has undergone many changes over the years. I remember going there mainly for Sunday breakfasts when the owner Julian was working in the kitchen. His collection of CDs from his side job as a DJ were displayed on the wall after his binders were looted and all he had left were the covers. Giant artwork was on the walls and ceilings, and the space was divided into two areas. The line was always out the door. But it was also the kind of place were Julian may just want to close down in the middle of a busy Sunday for whatever reason, and you left without question when that happened. The food was also hit or miss, with things that sounded great on paper but arrived and failed to impress.

A few years ago, Julian’s underwent an interior transformation and a general manager assumed control of the business. Julian still pops in from time to time, but he is no longer the head chef. As a result, the menu has broadened its variety, the staff has become friendlier, the food more consistent, and the overall atmosphere more professional. The menu can really take some chances sometimes, but more often than not, it DOES impress. The interior is darker and moodier in a great way, with cozy tables of four and a curving bar overlooking the main kitchen area.The place can still get crazy on a Sunday late morning, with tons of hipster kids baring tattoos and the latest facial hair trend, so we stick to the weekdays for the most part.

The menu for Valentine’s Day was a five course extravaganza. The reception – an amusé bouche – was a roasted baby artichoke heart stuffed with blood orange and smoked almonds, sprouting from a confit tomato gélee with rosemary balsamic syrup. Fancy, and almost too pretty to eat. I’m only an aspiring foodie, so I haven’t had much experience with “gélee”, but here it seemed to be a jello-type consistency with much more savory flavor. The contrasting textures were interesting, and in the end, I like the artichoke and almonds quite a bit more than the jelly.

I apologize for the quality of the images… it was dark and romantic in there, so I did my best with the light and the camera I had.

The salad course was a medley of four radishes – dakon, black, lime and watermelon – in lemongrass basil vinaigrette with wakeme-coconut brunoise. The flavors there were more subtle than the reception, with tangy and sweet overtones from the coconut and vinaigrette. The radishes were thinly sliced and raw, so they were crisp. Their coloring was beautiful, especially the watermelon ones, which looked like what you would expect them to look like. Overall, the dish was enjoyable and a little adventurous without being risky. The flavors were simple and light.

For the appetizers we had choice between seviche of Ahi tuna & escolar with mandarinquat, bird’s eye chile pepper, microcilantro, & sweet soy sauce. I had this one. It was really amazing. The seviche was perfect, although I am no expert. The tuna was chopped into small pieces that supported the citrus well. The two little tortilla chips that came with it gave a nice salty texture break.

My wife got the golden beet-spring garlic pakora with fennel-cashew chutney, oven-dried mango, & madras curry sauce. The mango was more like fruit leather, and was balanced between the two mounds of pakora and chutney. It was the opposite of my selection – mine was cool, crisp and citrusy while hers was warm, dark and more complex. In both cases, we were pleased with the pacing of the meal and the portions. We’re little people, and did not want to get too full before the main.

Next came an intermezzo of a Mexican chocolate truffle with pickled pear, a grapefuit-tarragon jelly chew with candied ginger, & edible flowers. It was indeed a nice sweet break before the main course. The presentation was cute, on small plates with colorful flowers. I always eat the flowers when they say they’re edible.

Finally, the main course. There were three selections, but we chose the Tofu dish and the rabbit leg. The menu described them thusly: Crispy seared tofu roulade stuffed with macintosh apple-butternut squash, with truffle salted parsnip, & mushroom thyme velouté.

Cumin-mustard dusted rabbit leg with portabello-yukon gold potato gratan, garlic grilled collard greens, & pinenut-olive pesto. Both were very rich and very decadent with a myriad of flavors. My wife’s impressed her, but the smokiness of the dish overwhelmed her palette, which has been more sensitive due to her pregnancy. It was too much for her to handle, but she had it boxed up. Mine was delicious, and my first foray into rabbit. The meat was a cross between pork and chicken. Smoky and slightly gamey with the consistency of chicken. The potatoes were a great base, while the greens were a bit hard to cut and manage. The pesto was another flavor all together, and while I am not a fan of olives, I enjoyed their saltiness against the garlic in the greens and the gaminess of the meat.

After a breath or two, we happily decide that we could go for dessert – that we were not too full for it. I’m glad we did. She got the vanilla-infused Meyer lemon tart with an oatmeal shortbread crust, chocolate lavender sorbet, and pomegranate molasses. I can attest that it was amazing. The tartness of the lemon against the creamy chocolate was just perfect, with the crunch of the crust. All around a perfect pairing and execution. I had the fig and chestnut chiffon cake with spiced mascarpone cream, warm walnut butter, and pure maple syrup drizzle. Much more subtle in flavors compared to the tart – it impressed as well, but on a different level. The fluffiness of the textures blended well together and the parts were not overly sweet – instead, they were in the middle of sweet and savory, which I tend to think things like figs and dates typically are.

All together, it was a wonderful meal. A touch of adventure here and there, with elements that neither of us have tried, flavor combinations that were unexpected, and a nice slow pace to the entire evening. We ended being there for about three hours, and since the menu was set with only a few selections to make, the experience really centered on the food and the anticipation of what was coming next.