I don't know how I did it, but I went out for some leisurely eating and drinking and then went to a show and I am home and it's barely past 11:00. How in the world did that happen? And why didn't I stop for a nightcap on the way home?
Because I hadn't been to Six Burner since before they closed down for a two-week vacation, I felt the need to see what was up with them. In fact, lots had changed, including the kitchen staff under Philip Denny (which I'd had a heads-up about) and the menu (which was a pleasant surprise). With a new emphasis on small plates, I was excited to find a dozen small plates ranging form $6 to $10, with only the foie gras topping out at $16.
With so many choices, I needed some time to decide. Since it was Tuesday (half off all wines by the glass) I started with the Broadbent Vino Verde while I can still get it. I know some restaurants around here have already taken Vino Verde off the wine list (you know who you are because I've already given you crap about it) but, come on, it may be September, but it was still 90 degrees today! In fact, T. came over and we bonded over the beauty of Vino Verde as the easiest of all summer sippers. Bearded men know things.
To my surprise, Six Burner had a new bartender, Mike, a charming guy who quickly introduced himself and made me feel welcome. He had been trained by my favorite 6B bartender, Josh, so his charming ways came as no surprise.
I asked for his references (Joe's Inn and Sam & Omie's, of all unlikely places and actively recruited by owner Ry) and T. was quick to explain to Mike who I was and what my role at 6B was ("When she comes in on days other than Tuesdays, it throws us all off. But she does it anyway.").
Mike has been in RVA two years longer than I have (having moved here because he fell in love and got married), so we enjoyed talking about the changes we have seen in the scene.
He told me about his years working on the Outer Banks (no matter what shift he worked, there always seemed to be time to hang out at the beach he said) and we compared our memories of the evolution of that area.
Perusing the latest Flavor magazine, I enjoyed the article on Acacia and was most surprised to see the piece on Blue Duck Tavern, a restaurant I'd visited with a big city critic friend a while back, here. It was interesting getting another viewpoint on a place I'd been.
Remembering that evening, one of my favorite touches had happened after I sat my bag on the floor; our server had scooped it up and set it on a small stool to keep it off the (presumably) less-than-pristine floor. That's a big city attention to detail that I can't imagine in Richmond Or perhaps our restaurant floors are just cleaner.
Six Burner's new menu deservedly got all my attention. From bacon-wrapped fried house made pickles to red snapper crudo, I had a tough time choosing. It was the last item that finally grabbed me and wouldn't let go: the braised rabbit, potato gnocchi, figs, roasted shallots, Parmesan and cocoa. Comfort food, a tease to fall and the figs that are so amazingly good right now all made for a dish even a rabbit-hater would love (and actually I'm quite fond of rabbit).
Next time, I'm thinking the fluke sashimi. Or perhaps the Olde Salts raw oysters. So many delectable choices!
Requesting a glass of the Brandborg Pinot Noir, Mike misheard me and brought a glass of Eola Pinot Gris by mistake. Turns out they were out of the Pinot Noir anyway, so instead I got the La Paradou Grenache/Syrah and found it a lovely accompaniment to my rabbit. When Mike brought another glass unbidden, I didn't complain in the least. What's $3.50?
After several hours and watching the restaurant fill almost to capacity and begin to clear out (except for the first date couple at the table behind me and their conversation was so endearing I couldn't help but eavesdrop), I knew it was time to hit the road if I was to hear live music tonight.
The Camel had three bands playing, but I'd unfortunately missed the first, Quiet Eyes Road, plus part of the second, Vessel, by the time I got there. Vessel could best be described as hardcore vocals with softcore/emo instrumentation. I'm as emo as the next girl (actually probably more so), but half a set was probably plenty for me.
O'Brother, on the other had, were rock/indie/ambient, for lack of a better term (so no screaming). The volume was a bit more than my eardrums would have liked, but they ranged close enough to post-rock's swelling and diminishing volumes to keep me happy. The crowd was clearly devoted to either the band or the sound; I'm not sure that it mattered which on a Tuesday night.
The lead singer explained that he was having vocal issues, so the set would be short. Clearly apologetic, he promised that the band would make it up to the audience the next time they played here. The set was probably a half a dozen songs or so and then they were through; thus my unexpectedly early night.
Which is probably just as well considering how early my bed began vibrating this morning due to the gas line repairs. The workmen are always so sweetly apologetic when they see me (must be that heart-to-heart we had a while back about their noisy wake-up calls), but it doesn't change the fact that they're out there way before I'm ready to get up.
Maybe O'Brother did me a favor after all. Thanks, guys.
Showing posts with label Phillip Denny. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Phillip Denny. Show all posts
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Girls' Night Out with Guys (but what guys!)
What an interesting night.
We started out in search of a meal and covered so much more ground than expected.
Exes, music, restaurant critics and lust; all topics explored and resolved.
Okay, love issues still up in the air.
Wanting to increase my brain cells before killing a few, I began at a book reading at Fountain Books.
The writer was Tony Williams, the book was The Pox and the Covenant and it was about the colonial resistance to smallpox inoculation, of which a young Ben Franklin was a huge part.
The concept of using an African folk cure (immunization) was unacceptable to many at the time, not that we hadn't started using Native American folk cures for rattlesnake bites and the like.
I met Williams upon walking in: he was smart and funny and, as a former teacher, not above correcting the grammar of a student in the audience.
Nerd quotient fulfilled.
And then the real fun began. I collected my girlfriend and then it was just a matter of deciding where to go.
Tuesday means wine is half off at Acacia, Sette and Six Burner.
We both voted for Six Burner since we know so much of the staff and it turned out to be the right choice, because who else was eating at Six Burner?
That's right, Dale Reitzer, so we wouldn't have been the beneficiary of his cooking last night anyway.
The last couple of times I'd seen Josh, the bartender, had not been at Six Burner, but at the National and he'd read me the riot act about my absence at his bar, so I knew it was going to be a great evening when he sarcastically and enthusiastically welcomed us.
The kitchen, most of whom I know, too, seemed to be happy to see us as well, because it wasn't long before an amuse bouche arrived to accompany our half-price Albarino.
Picture a white anchovy draped over a Mediterranean potato salad of the tiniest pieces.
The flavors were transporting; we really could imagine eating it on a seaside balcony somewhere.
By this time, our twosome status had been augmented by the addition of a Y chromosome, a handsome, charming guy I am just getting to know these past few months but who knows my friend much better.
Freshly showered and shaved (as much as a bearded guy shaves), he was just what we wanted to shake up the dynamics of the evening.
Just as we're trying to decide on entrees, another surprise course arrived; this time it was Alaskan octopus with olives, tomatoes, potatoes, paprika, olive oil and lemon juice.
The consensus was that truly amazing octopus comes from our fiftieth state, although Chef Phillip Denny's preparation gets a lot of the credit, too.
Again with the Mediterranean flavors, it impressed us all as being worthy of vacation eating. Only then did we finally place our order.
In a nod to sundresses, motorcycle rides and spring in general, our next course was shad roe, sun choke puree, farm egg, arugula and Parmesan.
The fish cake-like shad roe was beautifully enhanced by the drippy egg yolk and delicate sun choke puree. Appropriately, the man among us did the final sopping of the last bits of roe and egg, as only men can do.
At this point we decided to switch grapes because the beauty of half price wine by the glass is being able to do so throughout the evening.
They went Malbec but not me.
Josh wanted me to try something new, in this case the most popular red grape in Austria, Zweigelt. I tasted the Austrian Cherry Zweigelt and happily took his recommendation; it was smooth, round and spicy with, surprise, hints of cherry.
With loins having already been a hot topic that evening, I'd ordered the lamb loin, salsify, local mushies, asparagus, carrot puree in a red wine sauce.
My girl had gotten my first choice, the barramundi and chorizo and my guy ordered the grilled quails with beluga lentils.
All three were superb and provided an ideal variety of tasting possibilities for the three of us.
That is, when we weren't discussing how happy and in-love parents set impossible role model standards for their children, a group which included all three of us.
It's fortunate to witness those kinds of successful long-term relationships, but we agreed that it sets such a high standard, not that we're not all still looking and hoping to nail it ourselves.
By this point, most of the staff was starting to trickle to the bar, leading to a discussion of the Ruth Reichl lecture I'd just seen and food critics in general.
Having been recently reviewed, the staff was way into the subject.
On my way to the bathroom, I stuck my head in the kitchen and thanked Phillip for a truly spectacular meal, enumerating the highlights and wanting him to know how appreciative we were.
His response was modest but his face looked as pleased as punch.
Once Josh changed into jeans and tucked a cig behind his ear, we knew we needed to find our next destination.
Balliceaux seemed likely to still be going, but actually, we just made last call.
Our bartender was Peter and he ended up having plenty of enticing things to discus with me.
Turns out we have very few degrees of separation on certain key people and that provided some excellent surreptitious chatting; he also held his own on the topic of music, so I hope to be back for more.
Meanwhile, gal pal had run into an "old friend" and they were deep in discussion about their past.
And then it was closing time.
Our final stop was Ipanema for dessert (chocolate cake with coffee icing and gluten-free carrot cake) and to do a recap of the evening.
We're both very fond of our guy pal, attributing it to his strong and elegant mom raising him to be the kind of guy that women seek out: intelligent, clever, hard-working and just generally fun to talk to and be with.
He scored major points with me when Josh and I were discussing upcoming shows and as I ticked off which ones I was soon attending, he started singing to me.
Karen, I'm not taking sides
I don't think I'll ever do that again
I'll end up winning and I won't know why
Are you kidding?
A man who knows that lyric off the top of his head?
So, yes, I now have a (strictly) friendly companion for the show and dinner next week. Life is good.
Karen, put me in a chair, fuck me and make me a drink
I've lost direction and I'm past my peak
I'm telling you this isn't me
No, this isn't me
Karen, believe me, you haven't seen my good side yet
And to that, I would say, well then show me your good side, gentlemen.
I'm all ears.
We started out in search of a meal and covered so much more ground than expected.
Exes, music, restaurant critics and lust; all topics explored and resolved.
Okay, love issues still up in the air.
Wanting to increase my brain cells before killing a few, I began at a book reading at Fountain Books.
The writer was Tony Williams, the book was The Pox and the Covenant and it was about the colonial resistance to smallpox inoculation, of which a young Ben Franklin was a huge part.
The concept of using an African folk cure (immunization) was unacceptable to many at the time, not that we hadn't started using Native American folk cures for rattlesnake bites and the like.
I met Williams upon walking in: he was smart and funny and, as a former teacher, not above correcting the grammar of a student in the audience.
Nerd quotient fulfilled.
And then the real fun began. I collected my girlfriend and then it was just a matter of deciding where to go.
Tuesday means wine is half off at Acacia, Sette and Six Burner.
We both voted for Six Burner since we know so much of the staff and it turned out to be the right choice, because who else was eating at Six Burner?
That's right, Dale Reitzer, so we wouldn't have been the beneficiary of his cooking last night anyway.
The last couple of times I'd seen Josh, the bartender, had not been at Six Burner, but at the National and he'd read me the riot act about my absence at his bar, so I knew it was going to be a great evening when he sarcastically and enthusiastically welcomed us.
The kitchen, most of whom I know, too, seemed to be happy to see us as well, because it wasn't long before an amuse bouche arrived to accompany our half-price Albarino.
Picture a white anchovy draped over a Mediterranean potato salad of the tiniest pieces.
The flavors were transporting; we really could imagine eating it on a seaside balcony somewhere.
By this time, our twosome status had been augmented by the addition of a Y chromosome, a handsome, charming guy I am just getting to know these past few months but who knows my friend much better.
Freshly showered and shaved (as much as a bearded guy shaves), he was just what we wanted to shake up the dynamics of the evening.
Just as we're trying to decide on entrees, another surprise course arrived; this time it was Alaskan octopus with olives, tomatoes, potatoes, paprika, olive oil and lemon juice.
The consensus was that truly amazing octopus comes from our fiftieth state, although Chef Phillip Denny's preparation gets a lot of the credit, too.
Again with the Mediterranean flavors, it impressed us all as being worthy of vacation eating. Only then did we finally place our order.
In a nod to sundresses, motorcycle rides and spring in general, our next course was shad roe, sun choke puree, farm egg, arugula and Parmesan.
The fish cake-like shad roe was beautifully enhanced by the drippy egg yolk and delicate sun choke puree. Appropriately, the man among us did the final sopping of the last bits of roe and egg, as only men can do.
At this point we decided to switch grapes because the beauty of half price wine by the glass is being able to do so throughout the evening.
They went Malbec but not me.
Josh wanted me to try something new, in this case the most popular red grape in Austria, Zweigelt. I tasted the Austrian Cherry Zweigelt and happily took his recommendation; it was smooth, round and spicy with, surprise, hints of cherry.
With loins having already been a hot topic that evening, I'd ordered the lamb loin, salsify, local mushies, asparagus, carrot puree in a red wine sauce.
My girl had gotten my first choice, the barramundi and chorizo and my guy ordered the grilled quails with beluga lentils.
All three were superb and provided an ideal variety of tasting possibilities for the three of us.
That is, when we weren't discussing how happy and in-love parents set impossible role model standards for their children, a group which included all three of us.
It's fortunate to witness those kinds of successful long-term relationships, but we agreed that it sets such a high standard, not that we're not all still looking and hoping to nail it ourselves.
By this point, most of the staff was starting to trickle to the bar, leading to a discussion of the Ruth Reichl lecture I'd just seen and food critics in general.
Having been recently reviewed, the staff was way into the subject.
On my way to the bathroom, I stuck my head in the kitchen and thanked Phillip for a truly spectacular meal, enumerating the highlights and wanting him to know how appreciative we were.
His response was modest but his face looked as pleased as punch.
Once Josh changed into jeans and tucked a cig behind his ear, we knew we needed to find our next destination.
Balliceaux seemed likely to still be going, but actually, we just made last call.
Our bartender was Peter and he ended up having plenty of enticing things to discus with me.
Turns out we have very few degrees of separation on certain key people and that provided some excellent surreptitious chatting; he also held his own on the topic of music, so I hope to be back for more.
Meanwhile, gal pal had run into an "old friend" and they were deep in discussion about their past.
And then it was closing time.
Our final stop was Ipanema for dessert (chocolate cake with coffee icing and gluten-free carrot cake) and to do a recap of the evening.
We're both very fond of our guy pal, attributing it to his strong and elegant mom raising him to be the kind of guy that women seek out: intelligent, clever, hard-working and just generally fun to talk to and be with.
He scored major points with me when Josh and I were discussing upcoming shows and as I ticked off which ones I was soon attending, he started singing to me.
Karen, I'm not taking sides
I don't think I'll ever do that again
I'll end up winning and I won't know why
Are you kidding?
A man who knows that lyric off the top of his head?
So, yes, I now have a (strictly) friendly companion for the show and dinner next week. Life is good.
Karen, put me in a chair, fuck me and make me a drink
I've lost direction and I'm past my peak
I'm telling you this isn't me
No, this isn't me
Karen, believe me, you haven't seen my good side yet
And to that, I would say, well then show me your good side, gentlemen.
I'm all ears.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Ahh, The Pleasures of Pork Belly
I don't remember my life before I discovered the fatty wonder of pork belly, but I must have had one. Now it's one of those menu items that immediately grabs my attention and causes me to plan the rest of my meal around it.
Phillip Denny from Philly is the new chef at Six Burner and he comes to rva with an impressive resume, including a stint at one of the top five DC restaurants (and, no, I'm not telling you which one. Go in and find out for yourself). He has the letters f-o-i-e and g-r-a-s tattooed on his knuckles; I mean, come on. But that's not the point. The point is his food.
Last night I started with the Cranberry Bean and Bacon soup with Chive Oil, which I can't recommend highly enough. I happen to love cranberry beans, but I'm not sure that's even a prerequisite. It's creamy with an appealing depth of flavor and, as we all know, everything's better with bacon.
Then came the star of the evening: Pork Belly, Pearl Barley, Glazed Carrot Puree, Swiss Chard and Pork Jus with every kind of deliciousness possible on that one plate: the fatty pork goodness of the belly, the addictive saltiness of the Swiss chard and pork jus, the nutty creaminess of the pearl barley and the sweetness of the glazed carrot puree. I didn't exactly lick the plate, but it was embarrassingly clean when Josh cleared it away.
I've said before that I don't know anything about food except what I like. But what Phillip does to a pork belly is a beautiful thing. You know, I must have had some sort of gustatory life before pork belly; can someone please remind me what it was?
Phillip Denny from Philly is the new chef at Six Burner and he comes to rva with an impressive resume, including a stint at one of the top five DC restaurants (and, no, I'm not telling you which one. Go in and find out for yourself). He has the letters f-o-i-e and g-r-a-s tattooed on his knuckles; I mean, come on. But that's not the point. The point is his food.
Last night I started with the Cranberry Bean and Bacon soup with Chive Oil, which I can't recommend highly enough. I happen to love cranberry beans, but I'm not sure that's even a prerequisite. It's creamy with an appealing depth of flavor and, as we all know, everything's better with bacon.
Then came the star of the evening: Pork Belly, Pearl Barley, Glazed Carrot Puree, Swiss Chard and Pork Jus with every kind of deliciousness possible on that one plate: the fatty pork goodness of the belly, the addictive saltiness of the Swiss chard and pork jus, the nutty creaminess of the pearl barley and the sweetness of the glazed carrot puree. I didn't exactly lick the plate, but it was embarrassingly clean when Josh cleared it away.
I've said before that I don't know anything about food except what I like. But what Phillip does to a pork belly is a beautiful thing. You know, I must have had some sort of gustatory life before pork belly; can someone please remind me what it was?
Sunday, September 6, 2009
The Final Three
Tonight was Lee's last night cooking so, of course, he outdid himself. Buffalo-style sweetbreads with ranch dressing and celery salad, roasted bone marrow with toasted bread and fresh greens, and cured foie gras with strawberry compote made up my dinner and I couldn't even tell you which was the most impressive because they were all so incredibly good.
It was interesting, too, to note who came to pay homage to Lee (in his Lynyrd Skynyrd t-shirt and taking crap for it) on his last evening. Let's just say he was mightily impressed when I told him my story of having seen Skynrd as a drunken opening band too many years ago. Who'd have thought Lee could envy me anything?
Met the new chef, Phillip Denny from Philadelphia, and he seems quite charming. It'll be interesting to see how he picks up Lee's mantle and carries on.
As for Lee, I'm really going to miss this man's cooking now that he will be doing it in Staunton. Plans for a road trip are already in the works.
It was interesting, too, to note who came to pay homage to Lee (in his Lynyrd Skynyrd t-shirt and taking crap for it) on his last evening. Let's just say he was mightily impressed when I told him my story of having seen Skynrd as a drunken opening band too many years ago. Who'd have thought Lee could envy me anything?
Met the new chef, Phillip Denny from Philadelphia, and he seems quite charming. It'll be interesting to see how he picks up Lee's mantle and carries on.
As for Lee, I'm really going to miss this man's cooking now that he will be doing it in Staunton. Plans for a road trip are already in the works.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
