BASTIDE: ON THE CAROUSEL WITH THE HASKELLS

It has been a while since I last contributed to this here blog. There are, however, lots of good reasons for my absence.

For one, I have been gainfully employed for the last month or so. I am not allowed to say quite how yet, but will announce it as soon as I can. Suffice to say the return to a reasonably regular job has played havoc with my good humours and I have found little energy remaining to create when I come home in the evening.

Added to that the fact that I have not been eating out as much since I returned to the US for the same reasons as above and I have had precious little to contribute even if I could be bothered. So, a huge thanks to HP who has kept the good ship Dos Hermanos very firmly afloat with his wit and whimsy while I have been below decks.

What better way then to return to my blogging ways of yore than to discuss our recent meal with two of our favourite people in the world, John and Liz Haskell? This time, it was our turn to treat them and we all agreed on an early supper at Bastide on Melrose.

You can read Liz's report HERE (I of course have made use of her impressive note taking abilities when trying to recall what we ate)

Now, Bastide is one of those places that has been around for a while, but seems to have fallen off the radar because of its regular change of dining format and seemingly carousel approach to the employment of chefs. The latest incumbent is one Joseph Mahon, a young chef with an impressive C.V. that boasts Boulud and Bouley amongst its listings. John and Liz were already sipping on a glass of Prosecco when we arrived and, after a cursory glance at the menu, we decided to let the new-ish guy send out a tasting menu of smaller portions to show us what he could do.

The butter may have tasted as if it had been sitting around for a little too long, but fortunately house made bread, including Fennel & Olive, Apple & Cashew, Wheat and Raisin, was good enough to require a second helping and enough to see us through to the arrival of our first course.

A mouthful sized amuse of compressed watermelon, toasted pine nuts, celery leaf, feta water and parsley summed up the chef’s economic approach to plating and was a refreshingly lovely way to approach the nine courses that were to follow.

The next course, a corn soup topped with crisp nuggets of pork and a slick of curry oil could have been a contender. The soup was faultless, well seasoned and had a silky texture. The crunchy pork bites adding a perfect counterpoint. Unfortunately, the unnecessary addition of slivers of orange took the dish from pleasingly sweet to cloying in one bite. A shame. The next course redeemed matters immediately. A pork terrine too was seasoned properly and came served with a slick of grain mustard, frisee salad and pickled ramps all of which cut through the fattiness of the meat to good effect.

I was less impressed by the next course, a couple of slices of Yellowtail blanched in brown butter and then served with Chinese long beans, soy beans, shaved asparagus, radish with an apple soy vinaigrette. It was well received by everyone else at the table, but I have been eating an awful lot of crudo recently and the sight of yet another one, however competently made, which this was, did little to excite me.

The next plate to be put in front of us, a seemingly simple salad dish turned out to be one of my dishes of the evening. Two types of heirloom tomatoes were topped with grated goat cheese and served with a little Mache some avocado and a scattering of croutons. At a time when the words ‘seasonal” and “local” have been reduced to nothing more than marketing buzzwords, this dish summed up what those concepts can mean at their best. Stunning ingredients served in prime condition, being allowed to shine without the threat of fifty other ingredients. Lovely.

The next two dishes showed an equally light touch even if they were served in more hearty portions. Salmon on menus in the US is something I normally avoid. The one served up by Joseph Mahon, however, was one of the best I can recall in a very long time. Scottish Salmon had been poached in a mixture of olive oil and duck fat until it was medium cooked and then served with crunchy Beluga lentils, a few sugar snap peas and a port wine sauce which managed to complement rather than over power.

If I normally avoid salmon on US menus, I usually hide under the table quaking in terror when they mention lamb. 99.9% of people in the US (most chefs included) have not got clue number one about how to prepare or cook lambykins. So, the fact that I finished off not only my own portion but also most of Sybil’s and Liz’s tells you that this baby sheep (from Colorado) did not die in vain. French trimmed rack came served with baba ganoush, a concasse of tomatoes and a small amount of its natural juices. All good, but less impressive than the fact the chef had cooked it perfectly pink and allowed it to rest properly before serving it.

We were all fading a bit down the home straight at this stage, which makes the fact we agreed to a cheese course all a bit silly, particularly when I consider America as the place where good cheese goes to die. I am afraid the appearance of a very poor example of a cheese course at Bastide, which comprised small slivers of Petit Basque, Blue and Epoisse served with some slightly mealy apples slices, did little to dissuade me of that opinion.

Sorbets of Yogurt, Mango, Cherry did not meet with much more approval from the table and it was left to an excellent chocolate soufflé served with rum vanilla ice cream and mango chocolate sauce to save the latter part of the meal from total disappointment.

The bill, which included a couple of bottles of something interesting and well priced from Switzerland and something slightly less interesting and well priced from Castilla Y Leon came too, well quite a lot really. It also included a decent tip for superb service from a young woman called Tina who showed that time spent working at Per Se in New York had been put to good use.

Despite a few misfires, I was impressed with Joseph Mahon’s cooking, his respect for good ingredients and his simplicity of approach. It is a style that I suspect has been honed during his time in NYC rather than in LA, but plays well with the impressive larder available on the west coast. I will definitely be returning to Bastide and that is not something I can say about too many of the mid level restaurants I have eaten at/suffered through in Los Angeles.

TO LIVE & DIE IN LA: LIZ & JOHN. A CUT ABOVE THE REST

I may well have mentioned in passing, during the last few posts, my being less than whelmed by LA’s mid and fine level dining scene. There is however one place where I can always be guaranteed to have a memorable night filled with amazing food, great wines and, best of all, exceptional company.

Unfortunately, it is not a place I can recommend to you all as a must visit, because my favourite place to eat in L.A. is not in a restaurant but in the dining room of my dear friends, Liz and John Haskell. Over the last year and a half as I have been visiting the city on a more regular basis, Liz and John have taken Sybil and I under their wing and treated us to any number of great evenings. But, no invitation is more welcome that when Liz tells us she fancies cooking and John tells us he is going to open up a few bottles of “interesting” wine.

Last night’s supper came about after we had suggested to them that they might care to join us at CUT, Wolfgang Puck’s high end steakhouse. Instead, John offered to light up the grill at their house and Liz offered to cook a few things to go alongside a decent steak.

We knew from previous experience that when Liz offered to cook a few things that usually involved days in the kitchen preparing a multi course menu. Liz is a dining maven (for the record, she has eaten at The French Laundry over 100 times) and brings to bear all her many years of eating experience to what is prepared in her kitchen.

The meal began with starters served at the coffee table. The first course comprised two pates served with hot buttery brioche and glasses of two different styles of West Coast sparkling wine from Domaine Chandon in the Napa Valley. A perfect match and just as enjoyable with the next two courses, one of blini cups filled with crème fraiche and topped with caviar, the other using the same high end ingredient but this time served with eggs, slowly scrambled with butter for twenty five minutes and then returned to their shells for presentation.

After John had fired up the grill for the preparation of the main event, we moved to the dining table be presented with a bowl each of rich, velvety chestnut soup, laced with a shot of brandy just before serving. John poured us all a glass of Malmsey, which proved to be a terrific in combination with the gloriously luxurious soup. Luxurious would be the perfect word to describe a lot of Liz’s cooking. That does not mean that she always uses high-end ingredients. In fact, caviar apart, the ingredients used in the night’s meal were quite simple, but it is the attention Liz gives to their preparation transforms them into memorable dishes.

The main course of steak, potatoes and spinach was a perfect example, although admittedly the steak they prepared for us was no ordinary slab of meat from the supermarket. John had ordered a 40oz porterhouse from a company called Bryan’s Fine Foods. I had not heard of the company, but when John proudly showed off the raw porterhouse with its fine network of marbling, I immediately scribbled down the name to find out more about them.

Alongside the porterhouse was an equally impressive New York Strip from the same supplier. Both cuts of meat had been dry aged for forty days and gave off waves of meaty steam the moment John slapped them on to the grill. After they had been cooked and as soon as they had been rested, John carved them into big meaty slices making sure that each plate had plenty of each cut, while Liz added her own contribution, potato gratin and creamed spinach. So often in steakhouses, side dishes are no more than a diversion. Liz Haskell’s versions are, however, amongst the very best I have tasted, both again taking hours of preparation to get the desired result.

We staggered to the coffee table for the last two courses, cheeses from Andrew’s Cheese Shop in Santa Monica and a slab of persimmon pudding, which we doused in booze laden whipped cream and washed down with the last drops of a very fine 2001 Ridge Montebello Cabernet .

By the time we all looked at our watches and realised that nearly five hours had passed while we enjoyed our meal, wine and conversation, Liz had already begun to pack a goodie bag for us containing more of the persimmon pudding and some homemade chocolate chip cookies, in the unlikely event we got hungry on the way home.

It was the perfect end to another great meal at my favourite place to eat in Los Angeles. If any of you are fortunate enough to get to know Liz and John Haskell, you might just be lucky enough to experience it too.

BACK IN LA: THE BAZAAR by JOSE ANDRES

Moving to a new town can be a strange and challenging experience as I am already discovering. I may not have moved to Los Angeles yet, but spending an extended period here as I help Sybil with the planning for the wedding suffices to remind me that it is different in so many ways.

Thankfully, I am being eased through the transition by the kind guidance of Sybil’s many friends and a handful of my own who combined, will ensure that my welcome in California will be a very warm one indeed. Even if I have resigned myself to smuggling in decent teabags and getting up at 7am every Saturday morning to watch proper football on ESPN.

Right at the top of the list are my dear friends, John & Liz Haskell, who since my first visit to Los Angeles nearly a year ago, have taken us both under their wing and treated us to some extraordinary meals. Often these take place at their home and involve days of preparation on Liz’s part as she produces meals recreating her innumerable dining experiences at the world’s Michelin starred restaurants. She catalogues these meals on her terrific website, REFINED PALATE. Well worth checking out

This time, however, they wanted to introduce us to brunch at one of their newest haunts, The Bazaar by Jose Andres at the new and incredibly swanky Stark designed SBE hotel in Beverly Hills. TV Star and Spanish dining guru, Andres also runs a number of hugely successful restaurants in Washington D.C. He brings together traditional Spanish cooking with a more avant-garde approach which will be familiar to anyone who has eaten at any of Spain’s modern Michelin recognised restaurants. Such approaches can and have left me stone cold, with innovation taking the place of technique. It can be like listening to someone attempt smooth jazz stylings before they have ever learned to play the piano. If done well, as they were here, and based in a root of classical training, they can be genuinely exciting.

If we were dining out rather than dining in, one thing did remain constant, the sight of John arriving with a wine carrier filled with an assortment of astonishing wines from his sizable collection. As we took a prime spot in the dining room, he handed over a bottle of ’85 Krug to be chilled, a sign of what was to come. As normal, however, I began my meal with a very dry martini. The mixing was good and it was suitably cold, but the thick sliver of pith remaining on the pre-made twist made the end result slightly bitter.

Liz and John had already eaten at Bazaar a handful of times and were familiar enough with the menu for me to leave the ordering in their hands and, as we drank the first of the Krug, we worked our way through a bowl of sweet potato chips which we dipped into a yoghurt, tamarind dip with a spike of star anise.

Initial small bites came in the form of white asparagus topped with Greek yoghurt and black olive powder. It was served in a tin, a nod to Spain’s long and illustrious tradition of preserving prime ingredients in cans. This was followed by “Bagel & Lox”, which came served in a cone made from Tunisian Brik and contained crème fraiche and topped with salmon eggs and dill.

Possibly my favourite dish of the entire meal followed in the form of “ Huevos a la Cubana , Andy Garcia” a simply stunning effort comprising twelve quail eggs served on a bed of crispy fried rice and topped with crunchy slivers of jamon Serrano. A glorious composition that I have been thinking about ever since the meal finished. Talking of finishing and jamon, we had now drained the last drops from the Krug as John made sure, in his normally generous fashion, that both our server and the chef received a glass. Next he moved us on to an entirely new wine to me, a Ribolla from Croatia whose acidity served as a perfect compliment to a plate of Jamon Iberico De Bellota.

My experiences of eating Spanish ham in the USA have often been pretty shameful. The turnover is usually so low that the hams are left to dry out. I was concerned when I noticed that the jamon at Bazaar was machine sliced, but reassured when they told us that the machine was hand cranked which avoided any friction damage to the fat. This was easily the best Jamon I have tried in the USA. The meat was the recognisable gorgeous ruby red colour and the fat had already begun to melt at room temperature. It tells you all you need to know that I suspect a plate of this quality would pass muster in Madrid, as indeed would the accompanying plate of Pan con tomate.

I would have been perfectly happy if the meal had ended at that high note, but the Haskell’s don’t roll that way, oh Lordie no. No sooner were our plates cleared than the next dish arrived in the form of “Tortilla de Patatas, New Way” a warm potato foam served with caramelized onions, a slow cooked egg and topped with chives along with crispy small dice of croutons and white truffles. All to be mixed up so the foam and the egg blend to a creamy sauce.

When I had wiped the small bowl containing the Tortilla clean with my finger, it was whipped away and replaced by what I was convinced was dessert, a “Torrijas” Spanish Toast served with vanilla ice cream. It was not dessert, merely a sugary interlude between savoury dishes and while well made, I am still to be convinced by the American love of French toast, which this was to all intents and purposes. Likewise, I was unconvinced by "Eggs Benedict New Way" whose cooking resulted in a gloopy and rather unpleasant raw egg white which spoiled an otherwise passable dish

Almost as inevitable as the appearance of these two dishes at an American Brunch is the appearance of a trolley with foaming liquid nitrogen at a meal claiming any relationship with Molecular Gastronomy. It does not do a lot for me and while the palate cleanser of blood orange and vodka frozen at the table was a welcome respite, a well-made sorbet would have achieved as much. I guess this schtick still plays as new in Los Angeles.

If the sweet interlude had been a little underwhelming, the meal reached new heights with the next four courses. Those who have read DH’s posts with care will know that we judge the quality of Spanish restaurants by the quality of their croquettes. The ones at Bazaar are some of the finest I have ever sampled, anywhere. Crunchy, freshly fried coating giving way to a creamy béchamel sauce studded with strings of rich pulled chicken, so good that, if I had not been developing food sweats, I would have asked for another order.

I am very, very glad I didn’t because as our excellent server, Ryan plopped the cork from a bottle of John’s fine Burgundy, plates of mini hamburger sliders were placed in front of us. These were no ordinary sliders, however, they were foie gras sliders topped with Membrillo and served on soft brioche buns. Delicious single bites of force-fed ducky goodness.

Liz Haskell’s capacity to eat is legendary, but even she was beginning to fade, so she just decided to order two more dishes. The first was a molecular take on the heart attack in sandwich form that is the Philly Cheese steak. In this case, crisp shells of pastry filled with whipped Cheddar cheese and topped with slices of rare beef. The second, a plate of Catalan sausage served with white beans. Both were excellent, but given the amount of food that had passed before us to that point, they were a challenge as much as a pleasure. Next time, I would like to start with these to do them justice.

The two more dishes Liz ordered, obviously did not count as dessert, which took the form of two more plates. Desserts rarely excite me or offend me. These were no different and both a Flan Catalan and a whole heap of chocolate passed me by with no more than a cursory mouthful. What did not was John’s final wine offering of 1er Cru Sauternes.

By the time I forced down a large cup of fresh mint tea and nibbled on some chocolate covered raspberries and chocolate covered Space Dust, I was wobbling from so much food, woozy from so much wine and blown away by so much generosity. The Haskell’s know their restaurants and Bazaar did not let them down. It is definitely a place Sybil and I shall be revisiting again both for brunch and for supper when I am told the place is jumping. We shall, I hope, also be spending a great deal more time in the company of John & Liz Haskell, two of the dear friends whose generosity will make my transition to the United States easier and all the more pleasurable.