Kitchen Kat

For heathens (or hedonists) like me, Sunday consists not of rest and religious services but of food and flea markets.   At Isabella’s on Columbus and W. 77th I worship the concept of brunch, that wonderful meal offering me the options of both breakfast and lunch.  As an added bonus, Isabella’s brunch comes with a complimentary Bloody Mary, Bellini, Campari, mimosa or glass of champagne and a basket of raisin-fennel and carrot breads.   Is it any wonder why I bound out of bed?   

Suffering from a terrible sweet tooth, I usually order the carmelized banana-stuffed French toast.  Topped with strawberries macerated in Grand Marnier sauce, it’s both decadent and ever so slightly good for me.  (Just remember, whether sauteed in sugar and butter or soaked in orange liqueur, it’s still fruit.  Or so I keep telling myself.)  On mornings when I’m hankering a cholesterol boost, I opt for Isabella’s smoked salmon Benedict on a buttermilk biscuit with a side of home fries.  And, on those rare Sundays when I’m feeling a tad health conscious, I order the seasonal fruit plate.      

After brunch it’s across the street to the temple of quirky consumption, GreenFlea.  Looking for bronze Buddha, 19th century doorknob, pint of half sours or a sweater from Ecuador?  Greenflea’s got them all and so much more.  With proceeds going to the local school I can splurge on that vintage Clash t-shirt and still head home feeling relatively guilt-free.        

Tags: Food Musings, Travel Tales by Kitchen Kat
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Along with dining out, I do a fair amount of “wining out” while staying in Rhinebeck.  The Hudson Valley has a wealth of small vineyards and wineries — 19 in all – that offer tastings and tours.  I’m partial to the champagne and rural atmosphere of Clinton Vineyards in Clinton Corners but I have also ventured out to visit others on the Hudson Valley Wine Trail, including Allison Wines and Vineyards in Red Hook and Royal Kedem Winery in Milton. 

In addition to the wineries I have gotten my wine fix at the two wine and spirits shops in downtown Rhinebeck.  For a more temperate time I browse the aisles of Hudson Valley Footwear, Rhinebeck Department Store, Home Remedies gifts and furnishings, Hammertown home furnishings, Oblong Books and Music, Cabin Fever Outfitters and Paper Trail stationery store.  Reminiscent of an old five and dime, A.L. Stickel Variety Store on East Market is always a must-stop shop. 

Along with traditional retail stores Rhinebeck boasts of several antiques dealers located within walking distance of one another.  Behind the Beekman Arms sits a red barn housing the two-story Beekman Antique Market.  Across from the Inn on Mill Street Asher House Antiques specializes in imported antiques. Opposite the Beekman on West Market Street Portly Pug Antiques carries art, jewelry, china and other antiquities.   

Sick of shopping, I often opt for an afternoon of mansion hopping.  Within a 25-mile radius I can tour the Vanderbilt Mansion in Hyde Park, landscape painter Frederick Edwin Church’s Persian-style Olana near Hudson, the Greek Revival Mills Mansion in Staatsburgh and the 19th century Montgomery Place, adjacent to Bard College in Annandale-on-the-Hudson.  I can also just stay in Rhinebeck and walk around Wilderstein, a Queen Anne-style estate owned by the cousin and confidant of Franklin D. Roosevelt, Margaret Suckley.

When I’m in Rhinebeck, I’m in the middle of Roosevelt country.  Eleanor Roosevelt’s retreat and permanent home after her husband’s death, Val-Kill, is located in Hyde Park as are FDR’s home of Springwood and the FDR Presidential Museum and Library.  Top Cottage, where Roosevelt entertained world leaders, can also be found here.

The fun doesn’t end with the Roosevelts.  In Hyde Park the Culinary Institute of America gives year-round cooking classes to food enthusiasts.  In warmer months the Old Rhinebeck Aerodrome in Rhinebeck offers air shows, biplane rides and a museum filled with antique cars and planes.  At Upstate Films art and independent movies reign.  So many fun activities.  Is it any wonder why I love Rhinebeck and the surrounding region?     

Tags: Food Musings, Travel Tales by Kitchen Kat
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Gnawed your fingernails to the nubs over worries about the economy, work, health problems or those of your family, friends and pets?  Oh, why not blow a few bucks and escape to New York’s Hudson Valley for the weekend?  The visit will do nothing to replenish your dwindling bank account but it will undoubtedly provide some fun in the cold, winter sun. 

Shortly before Christmas Sean and I returned to our favorite Hudson Valley town of Rhinebeck.  Twenty minutes north of FDR’s home and the Culinary Institute of America in Hyde Park, Rhinebeck offers everything that we crave in a get-away destination.  Historic sites.  Plethora of art, antiques and independently owned shops.  Excellent restaurants.  Independent movie theater.  Wineries.  Farmer’s markets.  All within walking distance of our lodging. 

In terms of lodging, if you want to walk downtown as I always do, you’ll end up at either the Veranda House B&B or the Beekman Arms and Delamater Inn.  Opened in 1766, the Beekman is listed in the Historic Hotels of America and boasts of being America’s oldest operating inn.  

If it’s history you crave, you may experience the 70s — 1970′s — at the Beekman; many of the 73 rooms appear as though they haven’t been renovated since then.  Luckily, since my last stay, the hotel had hired someone to paint the walls in and expose the lovely wood floors in some of the Delamater’s rooms.  As a result, our room looked cheery and bright.

Outside of town, I love the 1745 Olde Rhinebeck Inn and Le Petit Chateau Inn, which is located a few miles from the Culinary Institute of America in Hyde Park.  With both I can enjoy beautiful surroundings, well-appointed rooms and hot, gourmet breakfasts.  Couldn’t dream of anything better, except, of course, to be able to walk into town.

Perhaps it’s because of the classes that I’ve taken and meals that I’ve eaten there or the fact that so many local restaurants are owned, operated and staffed by Culinary Institute grads but say “Hudson Valley” and I immediately think “CIA.”  The presence of America’s top culinary school has resulted in a great cookware shop, Warren Kitchen and Cutlery in Rhinebeck, and a wealth of outstanding restaurants. 

On campus Sean and I have feasted on local, regional cuisine at American Bounty.  For classic French food we’ve dined at Escoffier.  Hankering quick, casual food, we have turned to the Apple Pie Bakery Cafe.   I’ve yet to make it to St. Andrews Cafe or the Italian Ristorante Caterina De’ Medici  but I suspect that their meals are just as delicious. 

Back in Rhinebeck we have a variety of cuisines from which to choose including French at Le Petit Bistro , Italian at Gigi Trattoria, New American in the former, 19th century Baptist church Terrapin, French-American at Calico, Mediterranean at Arielle and Latin at Sabroso.  While I won’t claim a favorite, I do make a point to stop by Gigi’s for the vegetarian minestrone, Terrapin for portobello mushroom steaks and Sabroso for tapas. 

Craving appetizers or a drink, I might pop into Foster’s Coach House, the Beekman Tavern, the Firebird Lounge (for both drinks, food and pool) or Starr Place.  When I need a bagel fix, I head to Rhinebeck Bagels.  Pastries or diner fare?  For the former I drop by Bread Alone.  For the latter it’s Pete’s Famous, which has locations in both Rhinebeck and Hyde Park. 

Fine food isn’t the only thing on offer in Rhinebeck but for now the other attractions will have to wait.

Tags: Food Musings, Travel Tales by Kitchen Kat
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I used to think that the Macy’s Thanksgiving balloon inflation was an event known only to locals.  Not even my friend Susan, who has lived in NY almost her entire life, has ever walked along Central Park West pre-turkey day night.  Back in 2000, the year that I moved to the city, I breezed past the balloons outside of the Museum of Natural History, stopping when I wanted, taking photos when I felt like it.  I never fought snarky crowds or grumbled about tall people, poofy hair or fuzzy hats blocking my view. 

In the past few years hordes of people have begun showing up for balloon inflation night.  Last night’s turnout along W. 81st to W. 77th and Columbus and Central Park West swelled to ridiculous proportions, as enormous and monstrous as a giant Kermit the Frog pumped up high on helium.  So much for stopping and snapping tons of awesome pictures as I used to do.    

Balloon inflation officially started at 3 o’clock in the afternoon.  Due to a last minute trip to Kitchen Arts and Letters and an apple pie purchase at Zabar’s, Sean and I reached the route a little later than planned, around 5:15.  (Actually, it was Sean and I and roughly 3,500 other gawkers showing up around 5:15.)  Clustered on the corner of Columbus and 79th, we waited what seemed like an eternity before shuffling across the street.  It took another 15 minutes of jostling through the throngs, clutching my Zabar’s bag and hoping that the Thanksgiving dessert survived, before we saw the first balloons — Ronald McDonald and the late Keith Haring’s “heart” – on 77th. 

In spite of the wait and multitudes we arrived in time to watch two remaining balloons go up.  Working beneath weighted nets, men and women hustled to erect Sesame Street’s Abby Cadabby and good old Sponge Bob Square Pants.  

“Fish! Fish! Fish!” a favorite balloon as well as the mantra chanted as it glides down CPW, was already inflated and in place.  Likewise, Snoopy a/k/a the Red Baron, Shrek, Horton, Beethoven, Kermit and the new Smurf — or as some weirdly called it, ”Schumurf” — and Buzz Lightyear were blown up and tied down in anticipation of the next day’s parade.

Along with famous cartoon faces, we and countless others spotted Michael Bloomberg among the balloons.  Cell phones, little digital cameras and even a medium format Mamiya captured Bloomberg as he talked to reporters about the recent MTA terrorist threat.  

Oblivious to the topic or to whom she had photographed, a woman standing smack in front of me yelled out, “I got a picture of Bloomberg!  I got Bloomberg!  Now who’s Bloomberg?”  Guess it’s not a locals thing anymore. 

In the end we spent two hours wandering down 4 blocks, looking at 13 big balloons.   Amazingly, the apple pie survived all the jolts and jiggling.  And so did we!

Tags: Food Musings, Travel Tales by Kitchen Kat
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Earlier this fall I had the pleasure of returning to the 19th century, Victorian style resort Mohonk Mountain House in New Paltz, New York.  Nestled into the Shawangunk Mountains in New York’s oh-so scenic Hudson Valley, about 90 minutes west of NYC, Mohonk has become synonymous with relaxation and comfort.  A National Historic Landmark as well as a Historic Hotel of America, the 265-room hotel has been owned, operated and cared for by the same family, the Smileys, since 1869.  They have made every effort to jettison their guests away from the chaos and stress of daily life and into a world of wholesome luxury and fun.   

Blame it on a desire to squeeze every single hotel-sponsored activity into my visit but I never miss afternoon tea.  In spring, summer and fall we sit on wooden slat rocking chairs and take in the views of the putting course, gardens and huge fish swimming in Lake Mohonk.  In winter we curl up in front of one of the resort’s 138 working fireplaces and dunk our peanut butter, oatmeal raisin and sugar cookies into steaming cups of black tea.   So winsome.  So delicious.  So Mohonk.

With the aforementioned fireplaces, parlors, balconies, gardens, spa center and 7,800 acres of preserved land I have endless places to get lost in a good book, indulge in a massage, take a yoga class or go for a stroll.  Our most recent room overlooked the half-mile long, 60-foot deep, freshwater Lake Mohonk, so while Sean went off on an early morning kayak excursion, I lounged on our balcony, one of 238.  Feet propped on the railing, a back issue of The New Yorker in my lap, I watched plump chickadees flit from tree to tree and the lone kayaker paddle across the water.   

Tired of reading, I can slip off on a mule-drawn carriage or ride horseback around the hotel’s wooded property.  When I go into museum-withdrawal, I can tour the Barn Museum and see not only artifacts from the Mohonk’s past but also artwork from regional artists.  Forever the nerdy student, I can attend a lecture on NY woodland creatures, join an educational nature walk or try out birding.   

With the exception of tennis I absolutely suck at sports.  However, my clumsiness and lack of athletic prowess doesn’t stop me from having fun.  Scratching at pool in the billiards room, swinging and swinging again at the 9-hole putting course, flailing in the indoor swimming pool or, in the summertime, the lake, tumbling onto the ice skating rink, or skinning my knee while rock climbing — you name it, I’ve done it with a smile on my face. 

Luckily, I can redeem myself on one of two clay or eight hard tennis courts and hold my own on the game room’s ping pong table.  Kayaking, canoeing, boating and fishing on Lake Mohonk as well as hiking to Sky Top Tower likewise allow me to save face among my more agile companions. 

One activity at which I excel is eating.  Unsurprisingly, Mohonk provides me with ample opportunities to do just this.  Whether taken in the spacious Main or smaller East and West dining rooms or on picnic benches at The Grainary, three daily meals — plus afternoon tea! — are included with each stay.  With an emphasis on local, seasonal ingredients as well as options for kosher and vegetarian diners, the fare is creative, flavorful and sure to satisify the most particular of eaters.  And should I still feel peckish, I can always grab a bite at the hotel’s soda fountain or at the new cocktail lounge.   At Mohonk I never go hungry. 

During the summer months “after dinner” means movies on the lawn, campfires with music and s’mores and walks around the grounds.  Wintertime there are sleigh rides, ice skating at the 18,000-square-foot pavilion and snowy night hikes.  Square dancing in the parlor seems to be a year-round event, one that this uncoordinated guest has managed to skirt again and again.  Likewise, theme weekends dedicated to astronomy, art, photography, chocolate, dancing, birding, mysteries and theatre occur throughout the year.

Mohonk Mountain House truly offers something for everyone.  For me, it provides a little slice of heaven here on earth. 

Tags: Food Musings, Travel Tales by Kitchen Kat
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Before a recent trip to St. Louis, all that I knew about the “gateway to the West” was just that — the St. Louis a/k/a “Gateway” Arch.   Au contraire!  There is far more to this city of 354,000 than the iconic 630-foot high and 630-foot wide monument.  Lush parks, vibrant festivals, beautiful museums and unique, local foods rank high among the many offerings.

As luck would have it, my visit coincided with the 36th annual Great Forest Park Balloon Race.  The colorful, two-day event kicked off on Friday evening with the traditional “balloon glow;” roughly 39 inflated hot air balloons, illuminated by their burners, stood in Forest Park’s Central Field where spectators strolled, snapped photos and partook of food and drink.  The next day’s race filled the sky with these plump, cheerful balloons.  Both on land and in the air they were a breathtaking sight.

The 1,293-acre Forest Park is a site in its own right.  Home to the 1904 World’s Fair, it now contains the city’s art and history museums, zoo, science center, tennis center and opera house.  An art addict, I spent an afternoon admiring the works of such diverse artists as Chuck Close, Alexander Calder, Vincent van Gogh and Francisco Zurbaran as well as pre-Columbian and Oceanic art at the free St. Louis Art Museum.   I didn’t make it to the 3-story International Bowling Museum where I would have learned about the sport’s 5,000-year history and even bowled a free frame.   Maybe next time.

I didn’t miss out, though, on the brass star-lined St. Louis Walk of Fame or the fantastic independent shops lining Euclid, Delmar Boulevard and the Delmar Loop.  New/used record stores such as Euclid Records and Vintage Vinyl, bookstores such as Left Bank Books and Big Sleep Books, the home furnishings shop Rothschild’s Antiques, home and kitchenware store Winslow’s Home and the quirky Star Clipper were among the great local spots.     

Nor did I overlook all the wonderful foods.  St. Louis is renowned for its sweet, dense gooey butter cakes, toasted ravioli, thin pizzas topped with “Provel” cheese and Ted Drewe’s candy, nut and fruit-filled frozen custards.  It also possesses a thriving local-seasonal movement and a bounty of farmer’s markets, including Soulard Farmer’s Market, which has been in operation since 1779. 

Craving less casual fare, my friend Nickie and I dined at one of her favorite restaurants, Pomme.  A fast favorite for me, Pomme serves up French-American cuisine in a sophisticated yet congenial atmosphere.  Smoked salmon and trout with apple-celeric salad and slices of toasted baguette, pan-seared tuna, two rainbow trout filets draped over shitakes, hazelnuts and chives, a trio of housemade ice creams – vanilla, banana chocolate chip and rum raisin – with three crisp sugar cookies, and an exceptional wine list were just a few of the high points.      

 Another culinary high point?  Thanks to liberal open container laws, I gulped down local, $2 beer – Bud, Busch and the like - at Soulard Farmer’s Market while shopping for pasta, preserves and produce.  Needless to say, after all this drinking and noshing I could have used another St. Louis creation, the antacid TUMS.

The beer kept flowing at the Anheuser-Busch Brewery tour.  After an hour of exploring the Clydesdales’ stables, brewhouse and packaging plant, we were treated to two glasses of an Anheuser-Busch beer of our choice.  Not bad for free!

Tags: Food Musings, Travel Tales by Kitchen Kat
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Tell people that you’re headed to Maine and more than likely you’ll hear “Oh, you going up there for the lobster? ” Repeated trips to the easternmost state have taught me that there is more to Maine than cold water crustaceans. Spend a few days in Portland, the largest city in the state, and you’ll soon see what I mean.

With a population of 64,000 Portland’s size pales in comparison to most urban centers. What it lacks in numbers, it compensates in character, history, charm and cuisine.  Such is the case at Becky’s Diner.  Located at the end of Hobson’s Wharf, Becky’s has been sustaining local fishermen, townspeople and tourists for close to 20 years.  Its wholesome food and friendly service pack the red vinyl booths and counter stools “362 1/2 days.”  Don’t miss the perfectly cooked home fries, generous amounts of fresh fruit and scrumptious grilled muffins at breakfast, my favorite meal there.

Nestled in a low brick building one block from the water in the Old Port District, Fore Street and its culinary feats have been recognized by the James Beard Foundation as well as Gourmet magazine.  No wonder.  Featuring fresh, local ingredients in such satisfying dishes as wood roasted red hake filet with wild mushrooms, butter poached lobster BLT, organic green beans in a sherry almond vinaigrette and blueberry cobbler topped with blueberry ice cream, Fore’s fare has dazzled the crowds since 1996.  And crowds there are.  Just try snagging a last-minute reservation on a weekend or, during the warmer months, weeknight.  Not a chance!

On the corner of Middle Street and Franklin Arterial, Hugo’s tells a slightly different tale.  Like Fore Street, Hugo’s has been praised for its innovative, seasonal food.  However, unlike at Fore Street, both the crowds, portions and pleasures were miniscule on the night that my husband and I dined there.

As serving sizes were small, our menus and server suggested ordering three items. Nonetheless, I requested two dishes:  organic tomato salad with olive oil panna cotta and aged asiago cheese; pan-seared arctic char with organic new potatoes on a bed of seaweed slaw.  In turn I received 5, skinned, yellow cherry tomatoes tumbled onto a paper-thin layer of panna cotta with several centimeter-sized cubes of cheese, a small square of arctic char, one thumb-sized potato and two forkfuls of slaw.  Good thing that I hadn’t been famished. 

Also good that I brought along my debit card.  The portions may have been petite but the price wasn’t.  My lackluster meal — sans drinks – cost $30.  My husband’s, which consisted of the recommended three but also without drinks, ran $50. 

A far better value and meal came, surprisingly, at the Portland Museum of Art’s Museum Cafe.  There we split a flavorful lentil salad studded with slivers of red peppers, diced carrots, onion and feta, a bowl of creamy yet light corn chowder and crisp, homemade ginger snaps.  The cafe likewise offered several other salads, soups, sandwiches, dinner and vegetarian entrees as well as an assortment of baked goods, all served in a spacious, art-filled dining area.     

Three and a half days in Portland.  Loads of good food but only one lobster-based dish.

Maine Lobster Roll
Serves 4
Note: Either buy cooked lobster meat or steam two 1 1/2-pound lobsters and remove the meat.

2 cups cooked lobster meat, cut into small chunks
1 teaspoon lemon juice
2 scallions, minced
¼ cup celery, minced
½ – ¾ cup mayonnaise
salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste
4 hot dog rolls
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened

Toss the lobster with the lemon juice in a bowl.  Add ½ cup of mayonnaise, scallions and celery and stir to combine, adding the remaining mayonnaise if necessary.  The salad should be moist but the flavor should not be overwhelmed by mayo.  Season with salt and pepper to taste.  Refrigerate until ready to use.

Heat a large frying pan over medium heat.  Spread the softened butter on the rolls and place the rolls, butter-side down, in the pan.  Cook, turning once, until the rolls are golden brown.  Remove from the pan, open the rolls and spoon in the lobster salad.  Serve immediately.

Tags: Food Musings, Travel Tales by Kitchen Kat
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Primanti Bros. and Pamela’s.  Multiple Pittsburgh locations.  Loads of good, uncomplicated food. 

Hot, hungry and thirsty, my childhood friends Nickie, Marilee, Jen, Ann and I wound up seated at the counter of the original Primanti Bros.  Located on 18th Street in the Strip District, Primanti’s has been serving its famous french fry and coleslaw-stuffed sandwiches here for 75 years.  This locale operates 24-7, perfect for the bar crowd or for anyone craving a kolbassi and cheese or sardine and cheese sandwich at 3 in the morning.

On a late Saturday afternoon our needs were a bit more mainstream.  Along with chilled bottles of Iron City Beer, the drink of derision for much of my 20s but not for my nostalgia-fueled 30s, we chowed down such “and cheese” sandwiches as jumbo fish, spicy capicola ham and ragin’ cajun chicken breast.  Not one of us could finish these huge sandwiches.  The beer, however, was a different tale.

Along with the good friends and food, the best part of eating at Primanti Bros. was the free show.  By sitting at the counter, we could watch the cook grill mounds of cheese-topped bologna, roast beef, ham, chicken, and fish and assemble our meals.  Meat, chicken or fish placed on a hunk of Italian bread followed by fries, coleslaw, tomatoes and another piece of bread.  Slice it in half and serve it on a sheet of waxed paper.  Perfection!

At Pamela’s on Walnut Street in Shadyside breakfast was on our menus.  Since the restaurant is famed for its pancakes, Ann and I both ordered short stacks.  Often I gripe about restaurant pancakes, complaining that what lands on my plate is too thick, floury, flaccid and/or flavorless.   Pamela’s, however, were light and airy and tasted delicious.     

In keeping with the duplicate orders trend, Nickie and Marilee got vegetarian omelets with savory home fries and toast.  Jen courageously ordered breakfast her way – two eggs with the requisite home fries and toast.  A wholesome and delectable beginning to our Saturday.                            

Tags: Food Musings, Travel Tales by Kitchen Kat
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Moving to suburban Philly after college, I got a lot of flack about being from Western Pa.  “Pittsburgh?  That’s not a city!”  And then I moved to New York for graduate school.  You can just imagine what I heard.  Yet, when getting together with my childhood friends, I can think of no more fitting gathering spot than the city of our youth.  With a wealth of museums, parks, shopping districts, restaurants and bars Pittsburgh offers both the casual visitor and hardcore tourist countless things to do. 

This summer my friends and I revisited the Andy Warhol Museum, the largest American museum devoted to a single artist.  Want to see Elvis, the Last Supper, Silver Clouds or Brillo Boxes writ large?  The Warhol’s got them as well as 4,000 other works of his art.  

Along with a love of New York, the Velvet Underground, eccentricity, art and cats, the late pop artist and I share a birthday.  I found it quite fitting to be there, admiring the best of Andy and his Wild Raspberries cookbook, less than two weeks before our special day.   

A short ride up the Duquesne Incline brought us to observation platform on Mount Washington.  From there we looked out onto the three rivers, ball parks, Carnegie Science Center, the Point and skyline.  A few feet away on Grandview Avenue we had a wealth of fine-dining-with-a-view options, including such standbys as the Tin Angel and the Le Mont.

Back on river level we wandered around the Strip District.  Once home to factories, mills and produce and meat wholesalers, the Strip now houses bars and restaurants as well as cookware, coffee and antique shops. It also has outdoor vendors selling food, tchotchkes, stacks of Myron Cope’s gold-and-black “Terrible Towel” as well as Steelers, Pirates and Penguins paraphernalia.   

In Shadyside, our home base for the weekend, we shopped and dined along Walnut Street.  The tree-lined street offered a mix of independent boutiques such as Tennis Village, The Picket Fence and Shadyside Variety Store and upscale chains including Apple and Williams-Sonoma.  We walked away with lighter wallets and larger credit card bills but also with some great finds. The best part of visiting Pittsburgh? The opportunity to spend time with dear friends whom I could never see often enough.

Tags: Food Musings, Travel Tales by Kitchen Kat
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If you have ever lived anywhere near Pittsburgh, you will undoubtedly recognize these magical words:  Jeet jet?  No, j’ou? 

I did eat, and quite well, at this year’s annual gathering of childhood friends in Pittsburgh.  From ice cream at Dave and Andy’s in Oakland to french fry-stuffed sandwiches at Primanti Bros. in the Strip District, Ann, Jen, Marilee, Nickie and I gorged ourselves on some of the Steel City’s finest classic foods.      

Our culinary tour de force began at Girasole in Shadyside.  Located in a basement level, former coffee house on Copeland Street, this cozy bistro featured Northern Italian cuisine dished out in an intimate, exposed stone-walled dining room.     

On this particular Friday evening Girasole was a blur of activity.  A packed house didn’t prevent us from receiving attentive service and delightful meals, though.  Each entree came with a house salad, two words that invariably make me cringe.  At most restaurants “complimentary house salad” translates into limp iceberg lettuce topped with slivers of pink tomatoes and a scattering of carrot confetti.  At Girasole it meant plates brimming with mixed greens, whole cherry tomatoes, chickpeas, crumbles of gorganzola cheese and sunflower vinaigrette.  Such a treat!

Pasta lovers, we ordered such entrees as penne marinara with chicken, spinach and ricotta ravioli in a tomato cream sauce, gnocchi and spinach spaghetti with nubs of fresh corn, sliced cherry tomatoes, and mozzarella.  Talk about a night of pleasant surprises.  My meal, the room temperature spinach spaghetti, provided an intriguing mix of textures – melt-in-your-mouth cheese, crunchy corn, al dente pasta  – and flavors.  Yet another hit. 

For dessert we indulged Ann’s love of cheesecake and split a slice of chocolate cheesecake five ways.  From the dark chocolate crust to the cocoa whipped cream and the chocolate-infused cake, fresh blueberries and strawberries in between, this was a to-stop-your-diet-for dream.

The sweet delicacies didn’t end here.  At Dave and Andy’s Ice Cream Shop on Atwood Street it was love at first lick.  Homemade mint chocolate chip, cookies and cream or cookie dough spooned into crisp waffle cones or a generous bowl of birthday cake ice cream pleased our overheated palates on this sultry summer night.  Likewise, the delicate peanut butter-iced chocolate cupcake from the Warhol Cafe provided the perfect afternoon pick-me-up.  Served on rose Fiestaware, it looked as pretty as a Wayne Thiebaud painting and was just as tasty as it appeared.           

Tags: Food Musings, Travel Tales by Kitchen Kat
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