Northward bound...to Mendocino

When the spring turns to summer and the weather turns cold (that's the life here in San Francisco, of course), my thoughts go toward wine country and the dream of a relaxing getaway.

My Omnivore and I have, neither of us, ever been to Mendocino, so we decided a little time off to explore the Northern Realms might be in order.

To be honest, I know nothing of Mendocino beyond "Murder, She Wrote." So we had only a few hints of places to go and things to eat while up there.  It was enough to keep us busy though.

On the way up, we decided to pass through the Anderson Valley and investigate the Pinot Noir situation there.  Without too much to go on, we kinda picked a couple of places randomly.  First on the list was Toulouse Vineyards -- a very cool little family place on Highway 128 in Philo. You might drive right past it if you weren't looking for the little goose signs posted on trees that warn you as you get closer to their driveway. It's the kind of place with a steep gravelly drive leading up to it -- i.e. a place where you won't find tons of tour buses in the parking lot.  We're discovering we like that a lot.

At Toulouse, wine and food pairing is an important selling point, and Maxine helpfully brought us some tiny bits of lemon rind and bay laurel to try with the Pinot Gris. Astonishingly, straight up lemon doesn't kill their Pinot Gris, but works quite nicely with it.  Spices like coriander, cumin might work well together with this one, Maxine says.  Hmmm... we're packing a few containers of Chicken Curry and coconut rice for our dinner, so that's that.

Further down the road, we stopped at Navarro Vineyards. I won't say it was entirely because they had a llama in their field, but that might have been a partial factor...

I skipped tasting to take in the views and try to catch a llama.

Just saying.

And then we hit the long and winding road for Mendocino, where we were renting a little cottage run by the Alegria Inn near the edge of town.

Mendo is one of those incredibly cute places that generally are not my cup of tea, although I have to admit it was beautiful and certainly quiet.

Since we arrived during the week and it was a rainy week at that, we saw precious few other humans around --it was a little too quiet actually. As someone who watches way too much procedural drama, that sort of thing makes me worry about serial killers and evildoers who've retired to the quiet seaside town.

But I digress...

There is a very nice little French place about a block from the cottage that came highly recommended, Cafe Beaujolais, which offers some comforting French bistro fare in a  pretty quiet setting. It's a little on the pricey side, but I have to say, the fact that you can get truly caramelized onions with tasty French brie and a genuinely beautiful duck confit makes it worth the extra.

 Best of all, behind the restaurant is a bakery where they make the dense wonderful loaves that Beaujolais serves its diners.

We bought a pretty hearty multigrain loaf that was, as they say, "heavy for its size" and had to be sliced thin to enjoy.

By the way, see those gray skies? It rained nearly the whole time we were there.  San Franciscans bring cheerful weather with us wherever we go...

Anyway, pushing onward.  We went back to Philo to troll for more wine, Pinot Noir to be exact and found spectacular examples at Phillips Hill (yes, that's a lot of "l's" and "i's" all together).

It's a bit of our snobbery that we tend toward small, less trammeled places--they often seem to make the most surprisingly good stuff and you don't have to fight a horde of folks off a tour bus at the tasting bar.  Personally, I don't even favor places that have a "tasting bar"-- I really like the "plank over two barrels" model, but there's not a lot of that anymore in California.

Phillips doesn't really have even a picnic ground, but there is a battered old table out back ("We're glad someone is getting some use out of it!") where we set up our usual lunch of cheeses and bread and sausage. In the photo from left to right are Brie de Meaux, some Jurassic d'Ete, and some Goat Gouda with Nettles.  Yes, we shopped at Gourmet & More before setting out.

Yep, that and some Divine Delight petit fours and I'm good.

One more stop: Philo Apple Farm.  I wanted to check it out and see if it was a good candidate for a "family-friendly" feature in the Chronicle, but really it's much more of an agriturismo, where you can buy apple cider, or stay in adorable cottages on the farm. 

After careful consideration, we selected some cider vinegar and --"Hey!  They have pastured eggs--from their own chickens!"

I'm a sucker for chickens, so now we have to go visit the birds, who look quite sassy in their little moveable coop.  

"They look happy," I observe to my Omnivore. "Happy Chicken eggs."

Yes, we hustled back to the little honor-system farmstand and recorded our purchase of the last two dozen eggs.  Just in time it seemed, as a bunch of cars pulled up into the parking lot.

"They would've taken our eggs," I remark to My Omnivore, as I fight the urge to hide them under my sweater as if they'd get taken away from me. 

Homes away from home in Spain-vacation rentals and rail passes

Folks have been asking us a lot about where we stayed in Spain and how we decided on these places, so I thought I'd post a few links to the apartment services we used.

I can't say enough about the pleasures of renting a vacation apartment for travel. In our case, all of the apartments were less expensive than hotels, conveniently located, and while not posh, were larger than a comparable level hotel room.

But the biggest benefit were the kitchens, since--as one might have surmised by now--we like to cook and wanted to sample as much as we could from local markets.

Now, I don't want to make it sound like we were making fifteen course extravaganzas for dinner every night. In fact in Spain, as in Italy, our favorite meals were often no more than charcuterie or sausage products along with cheese, good bread and wine. But being able to make breakfast in the morning, or a snack in the afternoon without the expense of eating out all the time was actually quite comforting.

I'll add also that at the tail end of our trip, in Barcelona, my Omnivore came down with a stomach bug that seriously slowed us down for our last two days. It was no fun for him, of course, but the one saving grace for me was that since we had an apartment, I had space to let him sleep while I puttered around, played on my computer, made myself lunches and snacks, got him some fizzy water and bread, did some laundry (there was a washing machine in the apartment) and kept occupied while keeping an eye on him. If we'd been in a hotel room it would have been vastly more confining and unpleasant in my humble opinion.

MADRID

Because we were landing in Madrid first, and likely to be jetlagged, I wanted someplace that was easy to get to and also where there would be someone on site to help us poor lost tourists. So we settled on the Hostal Alaska, a hostal near the Puerta del Sol, just down Calle Espoz y Mina, which also offers a private apartment on the fifth floor (there's an elevator). At 80 Euros per night, it was cheaper than most hotels and a nice, spacious place to land. Juan Carlos Nunez manages the hostel and the lives in the apartment next door, and is also a great resource if you need help with anything. Unfortunately, I somehow failed to take any pictures of more than the front door, but you can see more on the website.

SEVILLA

In Sevilla, I had really one main goal, and that was to have an apartment from whose balcony we could watch Holy Week processions. We totally lucked out when we found the Sevilla5.com site.

The Feria apartments, as the name implies, are on Calle Feria, which happens to be on a street that the procession from the Basilica de la Macarena marches from midnight on Holy Thursday to 2 pm on Good Friday, and is the very one I most wanted to see.

At 120 Euros a night (it was a little pricier because it was Semana Santa and everything is more expensive during Holy Week) we thought it a bargain.

The place is spotlessly clean and very modern, though not enormous. Still we found it very comfortable for two people on vacation, and though it was a fair distance from the city center, it wasn't unpleasant walking to and fro, and the neighborhood--when not filled with processions--was quiet, with a lovely tapas place called Bar Ambigu diagonally across the street.

The kitchen is naturally outfitted with pots and pans-- think IKEA supplies -- inexpensive, but quite serviceable. There's a small two-burner electric cooktop and a sort of odd convection/turbo grill/microwave oven, and conveniently down on the ground level is a washing machine, though as in all our other apartments, there was no dryer.

The bathroom was nice--very clean and modern again -- with a cleverly space-saving glass-enclosed shower stall.

The best part about the place though is the view from the balcony. You throw open the windows and from the narrow balcony, you can look up and down Calle Feria. On the first afternoon we arrived, we fought our way through crowds of people gathered for a procession further down the street. After settling in at last, the procession wound its way up the street toward us and we were delighted to be able to relax, far from the madding you-know-what.

It was during the Madrugada though, that we became officially enamored of the place. In case you've never been to Seville during Holy Week --to sum up-- it's insanity. People, drums, trumpets, crowds, strollers, pointy hoods, candles, crosses...It's charming and exciting of course, and was the whole reason we were even in Seville over Easter, but after a few days of constantly running amok against processions, it got to be so that we would hear the telltale heartbeat of the drums coming from someplace... like the drums of Moria, and we would pause, sniff the air and then swiftly head in the other direction, as though orcs were about to swarm us.

From our lovely little apartment on Calle Feria, though, we could be above the fray. No endless standing on the curb jostling to keep our place or wondering if there might be a bar open where we could duck into a bathroom. Even though it was cold overnight during the Madrugada, we could go inside to warm up whenever we wanted. We could pour ourselves a couple of glasses of wine and watch some of the simulcast on TV, then go outside and film the spectacle passing right under our window. And if we needed a potty break, the bathroom was right there.

Plus, the lovely pastry shop, Pasteleria Alfonso, is right downstairs and open all night long during the Madrugada night. Chocolate triangle pastries--what were they called? Dunno, but we ate them up in a flash.

THIS is the way to take in the Madrugada. Perfect.

GRANADA

In Granada we were looking for a place not far from the center of the action in Plaza Nueva. We settled on the Alcoba Apartments--tidy and comfortable, if smallish rooms in a residence just off Cuesta Gomerez which leads up the hill from the Plaza to the Alhambra.

At 65 Euros a night, it felt like a steal.

We loved staying here, not just for the convenience, but the personable nature of the place. (We had the upstairs apartment, but had access to the lovely little garden downstairs.) One thing to note, though, is that if you have trouble with stairs, this might not be the place for you. Just getting to the apartments means a climb and then it's quite a lot of steps to the upper apartment.
Richard and Esperanza are gracious hosts, and quite helpful. If you need assistance or advice on where to go in Granada, they're terrific resources.

One important tip to remember is to book your Alhambra tickets ahead. You can use the website, or Richard can help you, but it's essential to make your reservation in advance. The Alhambra is one of Europe's most popular sights and tickets are often sold out far in advance , even in off-season. If you do happen to be there without a reservation and are determined to get in, I advise going up to the ticket office before 7 am -- no, I'm not kidding-- and getting in line. A limited number of same-day tickets go on sale first thing every morning and they are quickly sold out too. From the Alcoba Apartments it's a fifteen minute power-walk to the Alhambra if you haven't been cheating on your StairMaster routine. If you haven't kept up on the StarMaster, I advise calling a cab.

BARCELONA

In Barcelona, my only criterion was to be close to the Ramblas. I wanted to be within walking distance to the Barri Gotic and the Raval--not out in the far reaches of the Eixample, as pretty a district as that is.

The Ramblas Studio via FeelBarcelona was a pretty sweet find.

Large to the point of luxury, the studio wasn't lavishly furnished or anything--the bed made me seriously miss home-- but the place was comfortable, with a large kitchen, granite countertops, electric cooktop, microwave, washing machine and plenty of room to spread out your stuff.

The bathroom, which could use some work in the ceiling-- water damage was visible in a corner--was nevertheless clean and serviceable, with a closet/storage area between the bath and the main studio.

The apartment, which was about 79 Euros a night, came at a lower price because the entire building, which is located smack dab next to the Palau Guell (I'm not kidding, like literally, next door) is under renovation.

They were installing an elevator (hallelujah) and the corridors weren't too pretty, not to mention the construction racket during the days and climbing over guys installing marble on the staircase. However, given the location, price and the modern spaciousness, we considered it a worthwhile deal.

There is also a washing machine in the apartment, which is highly convenient. I should mention that you should have a Spanish-speaking friend help you translate the instructions and settings on the machine, so you know what they are. Otherwise, you may find yourself sitting in front of it with a lot of dirty laundry, wondering if you really should have put all those colors together, and if cold or hot water will fill the machine.

Ask them also which slot you should put your detergent into....

RAIL PASSES

If you're traveling around by train/car, try looking at RailEurope.com. We bought a Eurail Spain Pass (2nd class), which allots you 3 days of rail travel (within a 2 month period) for $219 each.

Spain's high speed AVE trains are great. We took the AVE from Madrid Atocha station to Seville and it was ease and comfort all the way. AVE trains run on only the most travelled routes -- Madrid to Barcelona, Madrid to Seville, etc. but if one is available they're worth the extra money for the sheer convenience and comfort, even in 2nd class. Make your seat reservations ahead though.

I don't mind traveling 2nd class, although I will warn you that if you plan to take the overnight Ellipsos TrenHotel and you want a private sleeper compartment, those are first class only -- you won't be able to reserve one if you hold a second class pass.

There were no reclining sleeper chairs on the TrenHotel, so we wound up sitting in the cattle car in 2nd class and it's not an experience I would EVER repeat. I got zero sleep all night. Extra tip -- avoid the 4-seats at the end of the car-- the ones that are pairs of seats facing each other. Avoid like the plague. There is barely enough room for one set of knees much less four pair. You'll be wedged uncomfortably against strangers all night long cursing the idiot who arranged the seating plan.

On Rail Europe, you can also make reservations for various trains, (seat reservations are actually mandatory for trips in Spain). Even for short trips consider making your reservations ahead. The nice folks at Rail Europe can help with that.

We failed to make a reservation for our trip from Seville to Granada-- it was post-Easter, I reasoned, and it's only a couple of hours away on a local train, how booked up could it be?

"No seats on the direct train until tomorrow," we were told after we'd already schlepped everything to Santa Justa station. Fortunately one of the guys in the ticket office took pity on us and revealed that we could go from Seville to Bobadilla and pick up the train to Granada from there.
Of course he failed to tell us just how deserted Bobadilla station (as beautiful as it is) would be.

Also, a not inconsequential tip: Take along a train picnic. It's cheap to make a quick stop at a store/pastry shop before you go and pick up some sandwiches or treats to have along with you. Bust out that leftover bottle of wine and you have yourself a picnic, which can be exceptionally handy when you're in Bobadilla for a couple of hours.

Madrid: Lunch at La Terraza -- Bring it on, Ferran Adria

So this place was recommended to us by no less than three reliable sources and I have to say, La Terraza in the Casino del Madrid, was one of more highly anticipated splurges of our whole trip.

This Ferran Adria outpost is housed not in a casino a la Las Vegas, but rather, a gentleman's club. It was jacket and tie (by the restaurant's request) and we could only get in for lunch. So already, I think you're getting a picture of what we're working with.

We are waved past the security guard and check in at the front desk where the guy has us on a list and takes my coat, then directs us past the Belle Epoque staircase to the cutest danged two-seater elevator which has swinging doors like a telephone booth and is, indeed, about the same size. Jeez, does that date me or what?


When we arrive upstairs, we are instantly greeted by two people. My Omnivore turns around to close the elevator doors, because, you know, we live in an old building with a "quaint" elevator and you have to close the gate or the elevator won't operate for the next person to use, and we're polite like that. The man looked visibly pained and on the verge of begging us not to do anything resembling sullying our hands with manual labor. Can't stand the sight of tears of consternation, so we hastily abandon the elevator door.


I'm a little worried because this place is white, white, white. The guy is in a pristine blazer with contrasting piping and it reminds me of nothing so much as The Prisoner's Village. I'm in silk and cashmere and I feel seriously underdressed. Not to mention that we're the ONLY two guests there and he asks me three times if I confirmed my reservation. I'm confused because I reconfirmed over email and they obviously had my name downstairs and it's not like the place is crowded. Do they get a massive rush for tapas at 1:30, I wonder to myself a little hysterically.


I'm half anticipating our next exchange to go like this:

"Donde estoy?"
En La Village.
"Quien es?"
Soy Numero Dos.
"Quien es Numero Uno?"
Tu eres Numero Seis...
Did I mention that this place is swank? Service is Gary Danko status--absolutely attentive, down to centering the plates over the crease made in the linen tablecloth from the previous plate. It's so attentive indeed, that you start to worry because the waitstaff outnumbers you three to one and they have a kitchen full of sodium alginate on their side.

Apparently despite my lack of sufficient reconfirmation, there is room for us in La Village because he graciously leads us down the hall to-- the only way to describe it is a salon, and seats us beside a massive, eight-foot tall mirror--EXACTLY the sort that could suck an unwary Alice into Wonderland. There are four people attending us and not another guest in sight. I am, at this point, one hundred and twenty seven percent weirded out.

I guess I don't do enough high-level, formal "meet-the-Queen" dining out? Must look into this.

Not to say that the staff is cold by any means. They were perfectly nice and even made the effort to communicate in English, which was much appreciated, because when you're talking about molecular gastronomy, the menu might say "Chicken a la KFC" and it will mean gelatinized corn purée formed into a drumstick and wrapped around a baton of perfectly sous-vide chicken with fried truffled potato pate coating and a pailliard of spherified gravy on the side.

I digress. That was not on the menu. But they helpfully explained the different items and as thing went on, I won't say that we and the staff were hanging loose, but they warmed up and seemed to appreciate the curiosity about how they constructed this truly marvelous food.

Anyway, enough babble. Here's what we had:

To begin, you sit down and they start you with a cocktail. That day's special was a gin fizz, but unlike any you've ever had. They call it a "Hot Frozen Gin Fizz" and the stuff in the glass is like a frozen sorbet of gin and lemon, and they bring out a nitrogen canister filled with lemon and egg white and make a hot foam with it. If you want to try this at home, folks, be my guest... It was amazing.

For wine, we decided to put ourselves in their hands, as we know nothing about wine. The white they suggested went well with almost all the starter courses. I was a little worried that they'd given us a bottle instead of by the glass, as the server propped the bottle in the chiller behind me and kept refilling our glasses, but in they end, they only charged us for two glasses, which gave me a blink when we got our bill.

(My Omnivore also had a red for the main course, but I forgot to get the name of it.)

To begin, a stick of rhubarb, yes rhubarb, drizzled in cane syrup and sprinkled with sugar, and pepper. Oddly enough, the effect was not bitter at all, and the pepper gave just a perfect zip to the morsel. Even for a non-rhubarb lover.

A crisp cracker, into which is nestled microgreens atop crystals of salt. It comes with its own little white tube which contains olive oil butter. You squeeze it over the cracker and the effect really is delightfully playful. Here's more info on how olive oil butter is made.

The olive oil butter is only relatively stable at room temperature. I squeezed a bit onto my fingertip and it immediately began "melting" into regular old olive oil in seconds. According to one of our many servers, a very nice woman, it's mixed with 10% cocoa butter and then kept cold until service.

Our next set of appetizers-- I might mention here that I'm not calling these amuses because they didn't amuse, they did, the restaurant called them appetizers. Also, even though you get no choices-- they just start bringing these babies out--there is a €10.70 charge per person for the apps plus bread (which is also good, but just "normal.")

From the top right: a roll of thin perfectly crisp filo dough, into which is embedded flakes of aromatic oregano and topped with flavorful dried tomato powder. Below that are squares of passion fruit crisp shaped into a cup and filled with light, cloudy shaving of parmesan cheese, and to the left are the most perfect triangles of chicharrones ever created by man-- light and crispy, with a melt-in-your-mouth spiciness.


One more item on the parade of glorious apps: a tiny sandwich that looks like PB&J, but which is really a thin slab of perfectly prepared foie gras sandwiched between two crisp bread sheets and drizzled with balsamic vinegar that is so reduced it's thick like jelly.

This one is so good you could skip the rest of lunch and eat just five more.

But here come the things you actually ordered.

One thing that's clear to me now is that most of the young guns I've seen dabbling in molecular gastronomy have gotten one thing seriously wrong-- they may have figured out Adria's techniques and copied his ideas but they lack, not just his flair, but his sense of humor. Like Thomas Keller, this guy is so serious about the food, but he is obviously also just one playful maniac. Every dish is exquisite, the visual is gorgeous, the aromas are full and generous and the flavor is exquisite, but the thing that kills you and just makes you giggle every time they put a plate in front of you is how delightfully funny the ideas are and how cleverly he plays on your expectations.

Take his carbonara egg nest, an Adria classic. The orange-gold yolk is a real one-- I might add, from a seriously happy pastured chicken-- but the white is perfectly set, spherified parmesan carbonara sauce that bursts with flavor and yet has exactly the texture of an egg white and blends beautifully with the yolk.

It's on top of what looks like pasta, but is actually consommé that has been gelatinized into thin sheets and cut into ribbons-- not rubbery at all, but just a touch al dente. The plate is hot, but onto it they place a thin slice of chilled bacon- infused cream that has been cut to resemble a piece of eggshell. See what I mean? All the elements of a classic carbonara reassembled in a surprisingly hilarious way. But it's not just a gimmick for a photo op, this dish is delicious. From the moment the bacon cream hits the plate it starts melting and sending out a siren call of scent. You gently poke into the yolk--our server's advice since it can spurt out a bit-- and the mix of flavors and smells is just perfect.

For his app, my Omnivore orders a marrow and cauliflower puree. The marrow comes in one succulent block, topped with caviar, and a silky quenelle of cauliflower pure on the side. Straight up, no weird chemicals as far as I can tell, but even though it sounds odd, it was absolutely decadent.

For his next course, my Omnivore has a deconstructed paella. This one is brilliant. Given the proliferation of lobster foams, I'm guessing people see this recipe and get some funny ideas about tricks you can do with foam, but let me tell you, Adria's flavors are absolutely classic, and this is a perfect example of respecting the classic dish while presenting it in a totally fresh light.

The "rice" is actually made of spherified olive oil, which is shaped into tiny rice grains, but still has the al dente "bite" of good paella rice. The chunks of lobster are perfectly tender and just done classically, and the thing is topped with a light foam of lemon, to give it that paella tang. In case you thought it might be missing the best part of the paella, the fabulous crunchy, caramelized "soccarat" that comes from the bottom of the pan, Adria overlooks no detail and sprinkles the dish with "rice crispies" to mimic the crunch.

My second course is the low-temperature egg with mushrooms, which doesn't begin to cover it. The egg is perfect poached and covered in truffle shavings. Around it is a pool of mushrooms, and a dense dark delicious brown sauce that I could just bathe in. Again, I didn't see any crazy tricks here. Just good classic cooking.

My main course, perfectly poached red mullet formed into sushi and seared to caramelize the top. It's served in an aromatic dashi with minutely shredded seaweed fronds.

My Omnivore had the rabbit, called "Hare Royale," again another take on a classic French dish. It's thin slice of rabbit loin wrapped around foie gras and served with an artfullya rranged array of wild mushrooms (cepes and morels, among others) and drizzled with deep dark yum-sauce. On the side, a paste of truffled potatoes.

I'm getting full by this time. But here comes dessert.

Mine is a buffet of "Flavors of Madrid"-- a Madrona ice cream with strawberry flavored cream and delicately flower scented foam.

For my Omnivore, a Chirimoya joke: Chirimoyo yoghurt with a mint and white chocolate shell and cocoa beans for the seeds.

If you're interested in how a real Chirimoyo fruit looks, check here.

And by the way, you're not done yet. There's still a parade of mignardises.

At top, tiny strawberry macaroons with vanilla cream, and below, dark chocolate spun into copper-colored "coils."

Lemon Frangelico gelee blocks, and then finally rich chocolates filled with Williams Pear brandy.

Ooooff... Roll me out the door and into the ridiculously small elevator. But wait, before we go....

We were there on March 31, so it was considered too cold to open the Terrace. Duh.

But in the warm weather, there are tables outside and the view, let me just note, is spectacular.

Reserve ahead.

And reconfirm. By phone (915 321 275 or 915 218 700)

LOL.

Casino de Madrid

Restaurante La Terraza

Calle Alcala, 15

Madrid 28014

www.casinodemadrid.es

Total price for lunch for two with wine: €228.40

- Posted from my iPhone